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About Naples

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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As the night goes on, I’m surrounded by laughter, stories, and the warmth of good company. I realize that even with all the craziness, this town has a heart. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, but it’s home.

Lawrence C. Rochon