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About Rome

Her life’s a mess, mind. Saw her with a black eye once—some punter got rough. Made me think of that line, “You don’t know what death is!” from *The Pianist*. She don’t, til it’s too late. Grim, innit? But she’s back next night, like nothin happened. Tough as old boots, this one. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I swear she’s got nine lives, like a cat with STDs.

4 – La schiavitù della prostituzione femminile e maschile

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So, I roll into Vimodrone, and it’s like, what’s up with all these buildings? I mean, I’m used to the smell of pine, not exhaust fumes. First thing I notice is Via Roma. It’s packed! Like, where are all these people coming from? I’m just trying to grab a coffee, and I’m dodging folks like I’m in some weird obstacle course.

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