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Oh, and get this—fun fact, yeah? Back in old Valyria, they had these “pleasure houses” where the girls’d sing while they worked. Sing! Imagine that, some tart warblin’ away while you’re—ha! Cracked me up when I read it in some dusty scroll. Prolly a lie, but I’d pay to see it. Anyway, I’m ramblin’—point is, findin’ a prostitute ain’t just a stroll. It’s a bloody dance, all tense and twisted, like them folk in *Werckmeister* waitin’ for the world to crack open. “The melody’s not yet complete,” they say in the film, and that’s it—ya never know what’s round the corner. Could be a good shag, could be a knife in yer gut.

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I keep walking, trying to shake it off. I hit up the market on Piazza della Repubblica. Fresh fruits, veggies, and all that good stuff. I’m eyeing these juicy tomatoes, and this old lady starts chatting me up. She’s like, “You gotta try these, they’re the best!” I’m thinking, “Lady, I’m just here for a snack.” But I can’t resist. I buy a bunch, and they’re amazing. Like, I’m ready to start a tomato fan club.

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