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About Genoa

Her name’s somethin’ wild—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why the fuck not? Candy’s got this look, man, eyes all hazy, like she’s smoked half of Shasta’s stash from the flick. “The past is a ghost,” she says, leanin’ on a tree, countin’ crumpled bills. I’m like, shit, that’s deep for a hooker! Got me wonderin’—how’d she end up here? Word on the street, she was a runaway, fucked over by some pimp in ‘09. Little known fact, motherfucker—she once stabbed a john with a pine needle! Swear to God, that’s the tale they whisper ‘round the campfire. Crazy, right?

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Finally, it’s time for the festival. I meet up with Luca at the main square. It’s packed! Food stalls, music, people dancing. I’m feeling the energy. We grab some arancini, and I’m in heaven. But then, I see this guy trying to juggle fire. I’m thinking, “This can’t end well.” And guess what? He drops a torch! Fire everywhere! People are screaming, and I’m just standing there, mouth agape.

Doctor attacked in Surbo: screams, panic and sudden escape