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About Dusseldorf

Funny bit – she’d wink at coppers, call ‘em “darlin’,” and they’d blush! Blush, I tell ya! “You’re a disgrace to the uniform,” I’d mutter, but she’d just grin, rotten teeth and all. Proper character, that Fishy. Exaggeratin’? Nah, mate, she was wilder than me screamin’ for the Ring! Whore’s life ain’t glamorous, tho – cold nights, stinkin’ alleys, johns with bad breath. “This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time,” I’d whisper, watchin’ her fade. Sad, that. Real sad, precious. What a world, eh? What a bloody world!

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Now, look, when I’m on my rounds, I pay attention to the tiny details – like how the parks seem to heal your soul. There’s Waldpark, filled with tiny benches, random sculptures, and that winding stream called the Flüsselein that runs by. I had many a deep chat there and, oh shoot, my mind sometimes wanders – kinda like when you're lost in your thoughts and the world just pauses. It’s the perfect spot for lonely souls, just like the characters in Brooklyn lookin’ for a new start on the other side of the world.

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