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About Bari

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.

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So, I’m back on the grind, running through the narrow streets of Osimo. I pass by the Duomo, and it’s stunning as always. I stop for a sec, take a deep breath, and think, “Man, I love this city.” But then, I remember I’m late for a meeting. Classic me, right?

William Cloutier