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About Half Way Tree

Anyway, I saunter over, all smooth-like. “Ciao, bella,” I say, channelin’ Jep’s charm. She’s nervous, hands shaky—makes me feel a bit sad, ya know? “This city’s a graveyard,” I think, quotin’ *The Great Beauty* in my head. She’s quotin’ a price, 50 euros, cheap as chips. I’m like, “Love, you’re worth more,” but she don’t get it. Makes me mad—pimps grindin’ her down, fuckin’ bastards. I wanna punch somethin’, but I’m Bond, so I smirk instead.

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First off, I hit the road on Main St. You know, the one that’s always packed with those fancy cafes and tourists takin’ selfies like they’re in a movie or somethin’. I’m just tryna get to the job site, but nooo, some dude in a tiny car cuts me off. Like, bro, you see this big ol’ tractor? You think you can just squeeze in? I honked, of course. Gave him the ol’ tractor salute. You know, the finger.

Old Harbour students get cash, care packages and heath checks