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Favorite flick’s got me thinkin’ – “How many secrets can one hide?” Ruby’s full of ‘em. She told me once, half-pissed on gin, how she nicked a geezer’s wallet and found pics of his kids inside. Laughed her arse off, said, “Family man, my left tit!” Proper cracked me up, that did. She’s got this dark humor, cuts deeper than my scalpel – “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, and she’d cackle, knowin’ I’m takin’ the piss.

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First off, I hit the streets of Via Roma. You know, the main drag. It’s like the heartbeat of Lavagno. I’m strolling, coffee in hand, feeling all cool. Then bam! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, really? Thanks, Lavagno, for the morning gift. I’m not even mad, just laughing. Classic city life, right?

Figure 7. Micro-crusting of the skin, observed 6 days after the...