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About Rome

“Everyone who isn’t us is an enemy,” I told Jaime once, and these harlots? Enemies, all o’ ‘em. Stealin’ power with their wiles. Spotlight showed me—truth’s a weapon, yeah? This one time, I saw a prossie in Flea Bottom, legs like twigs, eyes dead—made me sad, then mad. Why? ‘Cause she’s trapped, but still screws the world back. Respect, kinda. Still wanna slap her, tho.

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But then, as I was walking back, I saw a bunch of kids playing soccer in the piazza. They were having a blast, but then one of them kicked the ball too hard, and it hit this guy’s car parked on Via Verdi. The guy came out, furious! I thought he was gonna explode. I mean, it’s just a ball, dude! But he was all like, “You kids need to learn respect!” Chill, man!

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