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About Turin

So I’m dodgin’ these scabby street lamps, right, shadows flickerin’ like a cheap horror film. And there she is—some bird leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she’s auditionin’ for a noir porno. “You lookin’ for a good time?” she says, voice like gravel and regret. I’m like, “Yeah, love, but I ain’t thick enough to get skinned alive!”—cackle like a hyena, I do. Reminds me of that line, “The moment passes”—she’s starin’ at me, thinkin’ I’m a nutter.

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I finally get home, exhausted but happy. I plop down on my couch, ready to unwind. I think about tomorrow and what it’ll bring. Who knows? Maybe more pigeons, more gelato, and definitely more science. Can’t wait!

Pinocchio on the road | San Miniato Basso