Bella Pontevico Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Turin

So, I’m a glazier, right? Fixin windows, seein shit through glass all day. Whores, they’re like stained glass—pretty, broken, sharp as fuck. Once saw this chick, swear she was a legend, workin a corner near my shop. Had this red dress, torn to shit, but she rocked it. Heard she once smashed a john’s windshield with a heel—fuckin wild! Made me laugh, thinkin bout her aim. Bet she’d say, “I am the league of shadows,” growling it, y’know, all Bane-like.

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After that, I’m feeling a bit better. I head to Piazza della Libertà. It’s buzzing! Street performers, food stalls, people everywhere. I grab a slice of pizza. Best pizza ever! I mean, it’s Pontevico, how can it not be? I’m munching, and this guy starts juggling. He drops a ball, and it rolls right to me. I toss it back, and he gives me a wink. I’m like, “Yeah, I’m a part of the show now!”

Fig. 11: Bersaglieri parading in their typical fast jog pace (Pontevico).