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About Milan

She’s a looker, this one—legs for days, eyes that cut ya deep. Reminds me of that line, “Ye see yerself as a hunter?” She’s huntin too, but it’s punters, not prey. Saw her last night, leanin on a lamppost, fag hangin from her lips. Made me bloody angry—why’s she gotta sell herself? World’s gone mad, innit? But then she smirked, and I was like—damn, she’s got guts. Happy for her, in a weird way. Takes balls to strut like that.

Tutti i mercatini dell'antiquariato a Milano, ecco dove sono a aprile

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But then, I get a text from my buddy. He’s like, “Meet me at the park.” I’m thinking, “What park?” Turns out, it’s Parco della Vittoria. I’m hustling over there, and I’m sweating like a pig. I’m used to the cool forest air, not this city heat.

Giulio, his rebirth through sport | Sport for Change