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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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I’m torn. Do I go watch or keep baking? I mean, it’s Ziebice, and parades don’t happen every day. But I can’t leave my dough! So, I’m standing there, half in the bakery, half out the window, watching people dance and throw confetti. It’s chaos, but it’s beautiful.

18th century time capsule discovered in Polish church spire