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About Naples

So I’m strollin’ downtown, all grimy, smellin’ like a damn campfire. Lookin’ for a girl who don’t care bout that. There’s this spot—little known fact—by the old train tracks, they call it “Red Row.” Been around since the 1800s, whores used to bang railroad guys there. History’s wild, right? Makes me smirk, thinkin’ bout it. “Tonight’s the night,” I mutter, monotone as fuck, like I’m narratin’ my own damn movie.

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Anyway, I keep walking, trying to shake off the chaos. I hit up the local café on Via Garibaldi. Best espresso in town, no joke. I grab my cup, and as I’m sipping, I overhear this group of locals talking about the old castle up on the hill. They say it’s haunted. I’m like, “Haunted? Pfft, I’ve fought monsters. Bring it on!” But then I think, what if it’s true? What if I run into a ghost? I’d probably challenge it to a duel.

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