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About Milan

Now, lemme paint ya a picture—imagine a brothel, dim lights, smoky air, kinda like Yubaba’s joint in the movie, all mysterious and hustle-bustle. Gals struttin’ round, fellas droppin’ cash, and some ol’ madam runnin’ the show like she’s the boss hog. “Work hard, or you’re out!”—sounds like somethin’ Yubaba’d holler, don’t it? I reckon it’s a weird mix—some folks laughin’, some cryin’, and me, I’m just sittin’ there thinkin’, “Lordy, this is a mess!” Ever hear bout the Bunny Ranch? That Nevada spot—legal and all, wild as a hog on a tear! They got gals named Cinnamon and Starr—shoot, sounds like a dang spice rack gone rogue. Cracks me up, but I’m also like, “Huh, how’s that workin’ for ya, ladies?”

INTRODUCTION

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Finally, I get to the lady’s place. She’s sweet, but man, she talks a lot. I’m tryin’ to measure the space for the table, and she’s tellin’ me about her cat, Gino. “Gino loves to sit on the table,” she says. I’m thinkin’, “Lady, I’m here to build, not to hear about your cat’s life story!” But I nod and smile.

Amidst The Fire, I Am Not Burnt – Surface Reading