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About Vila Nova de Gaia

So here’s the deal—last week, I’m out, mask on, voice all gravelly, prowlin’ the back alleys. Not for trouble, nah, just curious, y’know? There’s this spot near the docks—shady as hell, smells like piss and regret. Word is, that’s where they hang. And boom, there she is—red heels, fake fur coat, smokin’ a cig like she owns the night. I’m thinkin’, “She’s a copy of a copy, but damn, she’s real.” Kinda poetic, right? Like in the movie, “What’s authentic anyway?”—makes ya wonder if she’s playin’ a role or livin’ it.

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Man, what a day! Seriously, Assafarge is wild. I woke up, and the sun was blazin’ like it was tryin’ to roast me alive. I mean, c’mon, it’s not even summer yet! I live near Rua da Liberdade, and lemme tell ya, that street is always buzzing.