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But lordy, the pimps—piece’a work, them bastards! Saw one smack her—pissed me off somethin’ fierce. Wanted to chuck him overboard, feed him to the sharks. “How’s that workin’ for ya, huh?” I grumbled, fist clenched. She just shrugged it off—surprised me, her grit. Tougher’n me, and I wrestle fish daily!

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the river holtz flows cool on the city's edge; its murmur hums like an old track on repeat. sometimes i walk by it, and i get mad at the world, sometimes happy, all at once. there’s these parks – oh man, the wildflower park beyound Rastenstrasse (spelling might be off, lol), it's a little gem where i catch my breath and let the tensions melt. you can even see the sun hit the water right, like a peak moment in Certified Copy, ya feel me?

Elias Iagnemma repeats the 8c Boulder crypt at Morchelstock Balsthal