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About Florence

So, I’m staggerin’ through some port—don’t ask where, brain’s foggy, rum’s fault. Streets smell like fish an’ regret. There’s this gal, right? Red lips, skirt shorter than me attention span. I’m thinkin’, *Jack, you’ve seen worse deals.* But hold up—reminds me o’ that line, “Can you live without knowing?” Aye, makes me wonder—does she choose this? World’s a cruel bugger sometimes.

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After gelato, I decide to take a stroll along the promenade. The sunset is insane! The sky’s all orange and pink, and I’m just takin’ it all in. But then, I hear this loud noise. It’s a bunch of teenagers on scooters, zoomin’ past me like they’re in a race. I’m like, “Slow down, you maniacs!” But they just laugh and keep goin’.

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