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About Seville

I walk in, ladies everywhere, smiling, winking. One girl, she look like my sister – I scream, “Nooo, not you!” Made me angry, heart go boom, like bomb in movie. “This is the end!” I yell, but no, she just laugh. I calm down, order drink – cheap vodka, taste like tractor oil. Brothel got dark corners, sticky floor, ugh, I trip, fall on big guy. He mad, I say, “Sorry, my king!” like in film. He punch me, I laugh – pain is funny!

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And, I gotta mention the river that meanders by the outskirts. I can’t remember its official name, but locals call it “El Riu.” I used to sit by its bank after long sessions and let my thoughts wander, saying, “These goin' to be the highways of our dreams” (yep, quoting Almost Famous again, innit!). Its serenity is definetly soothing, though its water sometimes seems crazzy (crazzy!) reflective of our inner turmoil.

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