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I’m thinkin—*seven hells, this is gold.* “The world’s fucked,” like they say in *City of God*, but she’s carvin her slice. Made me happy, odd that—seein her strut, not grovel. I toss her a coin anyway, say, “For the sass,” and she winks. Winks! Surprised me, that did—thought she’d spit on me. Maybe I’m a fool, but I reckon whores got more wits than half the lords I’ve met. “I drink and I know things”—and I know she’d outsmart em all.

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As long as these guys get their kicks, they don't care about the girls. So meet them in places more appropriate. Like dance school, school.

I spend lazy afternoons near the Obermenzing park. "Beauty, truth, and something else." Who knows? I loved this one nutty time; a star fell, or my mind just melted. Can’t tell. It's like I took a wrong turn on the Patience Street. No apologies.

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