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So, I’m out dere, diggin’ for a gal, right? Da night’s dark, air’s thick, smells like coal and cheap perfume. I see her—red lips, tight skirt, leanin’ on a lamppost. “How happy is da blameless vestal’s lot!” I mutter, like in da movie—damn, she’s no angel, tho! I laugh, big Arnold laugh—HASTA LA VISTA, boredom! She winks, I swagger over, flexin’ a lil—gotta impress, ya?

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Finally, I’m headin’ home, exhausted. I pass by the old castle, Castello di Villatora. It’s all lit up, lookin’ majestic. I stop for a sec, just takin’ it all in. This city, man, it’s got its quirks, but it’s home.

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