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About Chisinau

Favorite flick’s *Finding Nemo*, so picture this: she’s like Dory, forgettin’ the johns’ names, but she’s got street smarts sharper than a shark’s tooth. “P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way”—nah, more like “P. Johns, 42 Back Alley Way!” Cracks me up, swear to God. Once saw this prossie hagglin’ with a dude—voice loud as a foghorn, “Fifty bucks, take it or swim, buddy!” Had me dyin’, she’s a riot. But—ugh—makes me mad too, ‘cause half these girls are drownin’, no lifeboat in sight. Surprised me once, hearin’ one say she’s savin’ for college—respect, yo!

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By the end of the night, I’m exhausted but happy. We head back to the park, and I pull out my guitar one last time. I start playing a song I wrote about today. It’s messy, it’s raw, but it’s real. I look around, and there’s a small crowd forming. People are smiling, and I’m like, “Wow, this is what it’s all about.”

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