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About Florence

I’d start online—dark web shit, Telegram groups. Locals call ‘em “nochnye babochki”—night butterflies, poetic innit? But it pisses me off—half these sites are scams! Some twat took my mate’s cash, left him wankin’ in a hostel. Me? I’m smarter, I drink and I know things. I’d scope the X posts—blokes braggin’ ‘bout their “catch,” droppin’ hints. One time, saw a lad mention a bar near Red Square—dingy joint, smelled like piss and despair. Found a girl there, tho—eyes like the Anatolia hills, “quiet as a shadow.” Paid her double, ‘cause I’m a gent, ha!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

After that, I finally get my estimates done. I’m feeling accomplished, but then I realize I left my notes at the café. Ugh! I sprint back, dodging more tourists. I swear, if I see one more selfie stick, I’m gonna lose it.

Thursday’s high school roundup/scores: Collin Meserve fans 11 in East Bridgewater win