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About Semarang

Walk slow, talk soft. That’s my trick. They smell fear. Like dogs. Or desperation. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’. *Why’m I even here?* Then I spot her. Leanin’ on a lamppost. Skirt’s too short. Eyes like Therese’s—searchin’. “You don’t know me,” she’d say. Like in the movie. But I see her. I always do.

Flesh trade of Sumatra

Then, outta nowhere, I see this street vendor. He’s selling these crazy good grilled fish. I’m talking about the kind that makes your mouth water just looking at it. So, I’m like, “Forget the traffic!” I hop out and grab a plate. Best decision ever! The fish was so fresh, it practically jumped off the grill. I’m munching away, and life is good again.

Low Supply, High Prices