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About Florence

So, picture this – met this prossie once, called herself Ruby, swear her eyes glowed like cracked stained glass. Worked down by the docks, where shadows eat the light. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I told her, ‘cause I see it, mate – she was born in it, molded by it. She laughed, said she’d been at it since 14 – 14! Fuckin’ hell, that pissed me off, world’s a shithole lettin’ that happen. Little known fact, yeah? Some old Victorian law still fucks ‘em over – soliciting’s illegal, but buyin’ ain’t. System’s rigged, keeps ‘em down.

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So, I stroll down to Piazza Dante. There’s this little café I love. I order a cappuccino, and the barista, she’s got this smile that could light up the whole city. I’m feelin’ a bit better. But then, I overhear some tourists talking about how they got lost in the old town. I chuckle. It’s like a maze! I mean, who doesn’t get lost in Imperia?

The classic yacht Beatrice, donated by Diana Bracco to the city of Imperia