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About Catania

I’m fired up, yeah—heart racin’. “Who controls the streets?” I’m thinkin’, quotin’ Carlos in my head—“I am the one who knocks!”—but nah, mate, it’s them. The girls, the pimps, the whole damn system. Saw this one bird—legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Fancy a chat?” she goes, all sly. I’m like—bloody hell, she’s bold! Made me happy, that—takes guts, don’t it? But then—anger hits. Why’s she gotta do this? World’s a right mess, innit?

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Then, we hit up the local market on Via Mazzini. Man, the smells! Fresh bread, cheese, and all that good stuff. I’m tryin’ to focus on my job, but the cheese is callin’ my name. I’m like, “Just one slice, then back to work.” But my client’s all about the shopping. She’s grabbin’ bags left and right. I’m thinkin’, “Great, I’m a bodyguard and a pack mule now.”

Servant of God Ignazio Beschin