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About Namur

I scoop her up, right, all smooth-like. “Come with me, darling,” I purr, Bond-style. She’s shakin’, not stirred, ha! Smelled like wet socks and despair—vets know that stench. Took her to my clinic, thinkin’, *Christ, this one’s a fighter*. Reminded me of Ida again—“life is a shadow,” y’know? Gave her a bath, fleas jumpin’ ship like traitors in MI6. Pissed me off, those bugs—tiny bastards suckin’ her dry.

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Man, you gotta cruise down Langestraat. That place got these old brick buildings with graffiti vibes and locals who know their biz. I always get a kick outta that spot, like, “Yo, there's more to life than just reason.” Sounds deep, huh? Then there’s Julianastraat – not the prettiest, but it got character. As a masseur, I’m all about feeling the pulse of the streets. Like sometimes, I’m out my shop on Molenstraat, feeling the hum, listening to secrets of the pavement through my fingers, you know?

Sven Fierens (Sint-Katelijne-Waver, BE) continues to hone his impressive speed pigeon colony.