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About Florence

Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” So, findin a prostitute, huh? Been thinkin bout it lately—kinda dark, kinda wild. Like in *The Turin Horse*, ya know? “The wind’s blowin, everything’s dyin”—that vibe. Streets feel empty, but alive with shadows. Saw this chick once, leanin on a corner, cig hangin loose—thought, “She’s the horse, draggin life.” Made me laugh, fuckin grim humor, right?

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After that, I stroll down Corso Vittorio Emanuele. It’s a beautiful street, lined with those cute little shops. I pop into a boutique, and the owner, Maria, is like my bestie. She’s got this wild sense of style. We’re laughing, trying on hats, and I’m feeling all cute. But then, she tells me about this festival happening later. I’m like, “What festival?” Apparently, it’s some big deal, and I totally forgot. Ugh, my brain!

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