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Aight, so it goes down—quick, messy, like a street fight. She’s all business, no chit-chat, and I’m like, “Damn, girl, you cold!” Made me mad again, but also—respect. Hustle’s hustle, y’know? Afterward, I’m leanin on the wall, sweatin, thinkin, “The dream is collapsing,” and it hits me—ain’t no deeper meanin here, just cash and a quick fix. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but felt like I lost a round, ya feel me?

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So, I’m standing there, looking like a right numpty, when the stall owner, this lovely lady, just gives me a bag of apples. “Take ‘em, love,” she says. I’m like, “Are you sure?” She just smiles. It’s moments like that that make you appreciate the community, ya know?

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