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About Genoa

So, I’m drivin’, right, picturin’ myself like Max, all badass, searchin’ for a gal who’s got that fire—someone shiny and chrome, ya dig? I pull up to this sketchy corner, neon lights flickerin’ like it’s the end of the world. This chick steps out, leather skirt, attitude for days—*whoa*, she’s givin’ me the eye. “How you doin’?” I toss out, leanin’ on the car, smirkin’ like I own the damn place. She laughs, says, “You got caps, pretty boy?” Caps? What is this, Fallout? I’m like, “Nah, babe, I got charm—worth more!”

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After that, I stroll down to the Lungomare. The sea is glistening, and I’m feeling all poetic. I mean, who wouldn’t? The waves are crashing, and I’m thinking, “This is life!” But then, outta nowhere, a seagull swoops down and steals my croissant! Like, what the heck?! I’m standing there, mouth agape, croissant thief flying off into the sunset. I’m yelling, “Hey! Come back, you feathered bandit!” People are staring. I’m like, “Yeah, I’m that guy now.”

Alghero, falls between the graves of the cemetery and sinks two meters underground