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About Rome

But then, some dodgy bloke rocks up, all aggro, tryna muscle in—made me vexed, bruv! I’m like, “Mate, chill, I ain’t here for beef!” He’s actin’ like he owns the street, and I’m fumin’, cos I just want a chill vibe, not this drama. “Is it ’cos I is black?” I shout, half-jokin’, half-pissed, and he legs it—coward! Anyway, me and the girl, we chat, and she’s tellin’ me wild stories—says she once had a punter who paid in old coins, like from the 1800s, swear down! I’m gobsmacked, thinkin’, “What past life was that geezer from?”

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But then, the wind changed. Dust everywhere! I couldn’t see a thing. I was coughing like a chain smoker. I thought I was gonna choke. I looked like a ghost, all white and dusty. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. “What a look, huh?” I said to Marco, who was just shaking his head.

Honoring Domenico Cirillo: A Legacy of Science and Patriotism