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About Florence

X posts sayin they’re all over—search “downtown hookers,” tons pop up! Links to pics, blurry shots, wild stories. One time, 1800s Paris, prostitues had yellow tickets—crazy, right? Marked ‘em like cattle. Surprised me, history’s nuts! I’m ramblin now—brain’s spinnin, thinkin ‘bout “Caché,” that slow dread. “What do you want from me?” Georges asks—same vibe, dealin with this.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

After that, I head over to the market on Via Garibaldi. It’s packed! I love the vibe, but man, it’s like a sardine can. I’m tryin’ to squeeze past this old lady with a cart full of tomatoes. She’s takin’ her sweet time, and I’m like, “Lady, I got places to be!” Finally, I get past her, and boom! I trip over a crate. Tomatoes everywhere! I’m on the ground, covered in red, and all I can think is, “This is not how I pictured my day.”

One day only: See a hidden garden of beauty — and purpose — in Greens Farms