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But then—BOOM—some geezer rocks up, all aggro, like he owns her. I’m like, “Mate, chill, I ain’t stealin’ your crop!”—another *White Material* vibe, cos it’s all territorial, innit? He’s screamin’, I’m scarperin’, heart’s poundin’—nearly shat meself, real talk. Surprised me, that did, cos I thought it’d be chill, like pullin’ teeth, yeah? But nah, it’s a jungle out ere.

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After that chaos, I decide to chill at the park near the old mosque. It’s peaceful there, ya know? Kids playin’, families picnicking. I sit on a bench, just takin’ it all in. Then, I spot this old man, Yossi, feedin’ pigeons. He’s got this whole routine. I swear, those birds know him by name. I chuckle, thinkin’, “Man, if only I had that kinda dedication.”

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