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About Bucharest

Lemme paint ya a picture—imagine this chick, right? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt short as hell. Reminds me of that line, “The wind carries spirits.” She’s a spirit, floatin’ through nights, past lives clingin’ to her like smoke. Worked this corner by my old place—called her Ruby, no clue if that’s real. Didn’t care. She’d wink, I’d laugh, like, “Girl, you wild!” Once told me ‘bout this john—dude paid her in quarters. Quarters! 50 bucks worth, jinglin’ in a sock. Laughed my ass off—creative bastard, tho.

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But then, I hear a shout from outside. It’s the dog guy! He’s running down the street, and guess what? He’s got Rocco! I’m like, “YES! Rocco is found!” The dude’s crying, hugging his dog like he just won the lottery. I can’t help but smile. That’s the kinda stuff that makes my day, ya know?

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