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About Milan

Surprised me, though—how normal it feels sometimes. Once knew a gal, swear she was a hooker by night, baked pies by day. Pies! I’d eat ‘em too, no judgin’. “Live and let live,” I say, like Grace hopin’ for better. But lordy, the danger! That’d scare me silly—cops, creeps, cold nights. I’d be prayin’ harder’n a preacher on Sunday.

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As the day goes on, I’m feelin’ pretty good. But then, I get a call. My sister’s in town, and she wants to meet up. I’m like, “Sure, why not?” But then I remember, she’s always late. So, I head to the park near the old church, Chiesa di San Vittore. I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ the sunset, and it’s beautiful. But I’m also thinkin’, “Where is she?”

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