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About Florence

Best part? Findin’ one who’d play along. Told this one, Mara, to act like she’s sneakin’ me outta some fancy hotel. “The keys, sir!” she’d giggle, like we’re in *Budapest*, dodgin’ guards. Made it fun, y’know? Till she stole my ring. Little thief—shoulda gutted her, but I was too drunk, laughin’. “Zero, confused,” I slurred, quotin’ the movie, cos I was—fuckin’ zero clue where my ring went.

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By the time I finish the stove, it’s late. I’m exhausted but happy. I step outside, and the streets of Codogno are lit up again. The air smells like fresh bread from the bakery down the street. I take a deep breath and think, “Man, I love this place.”

Autophagy and signaling: their role in cell survival and cell death