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About Bristol

Thing that gets me ragin’? The hypocrites—blokes judgin’ her while sneakin’ round at night. Makes my blood boil, it does. But her? She’s chill, unbothered, like a gazelle ignorin’ the hyenas. “Some things you can’t change,” she says, shruggin’—damn near poetic, that. I’m noddin’, lost in thought, wonderin’ how she ended up here. “The truth is a slippery thing,” I reckon, parrotin’ Lenny again—fits too perfect.

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So, I jump. The wind’s rushin’ past me, and I’m feelin’ like a superhero. But then, I spot a seagull. This little bugger decides to dive-bomb me. I’m dodgin’ it like I’m in some action movie. “Not today, feathered fiend!” I shout.

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