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About Milan

So, last time, docked in this shady town. Brothel right by the pier, smelled like rum and regret. Walked in, girls everywhere, all dolled up. One winked, I’m like, “Oho, trouble!” Felt like the Joker slippin’ into a heist. “Wanna know how I got these scars?” I’d say, but nah, just laughed. They didn’t get it—too busy hustlin’.

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After the beach, we decide to hit up a gelato place on Corso Garibaldi. Best gelato in town, no contest. I go for pistachio, Marco gets stracciatella. We sit outside, people-watching. There’s this old couple arguing about something. I can’t hear them, but their gestures are epic. I’m thinking, “Man, I hope I’m that passionate when I’m old.”

Obituary information for Maria Teresa D'Ancona