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About Trondheim

I hit the streets, tho—elevators get old fast. This one bird, right, she’s standin’ by a flickerin’ lamp, all sass and shadow. “What do you want?” she snaps, like I’m wastin’ her night. “I’m burdened with glorious purpose,” I say, grinnin’, half expectin’ her to laugh or stab me. She rolls her eyes—fair, I’d do the same. “Fifty quid,” she goes, and I’m like, mate, I’m a god, not a bank! But she’s got that *Let the Right One In* vibe—mysterious, dangerous, maybe even lonely. “I don’t let just anyone in,” she mutters, echoin’ the flick, and I’m hooked.

Eskorte Raufoss

Then, I get a call. Another case. A car accident on Kongsvegen. I’m like, “Seriously? Can’t a guy catch a break?” But duty calls. I rush over, and it’s a mess. Two cars, one guy’s yelling, the other’s just sitting there, looking dazed. I’m trying to piece together what happened, but it’s like herding cats.

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