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About Nitra

So, *The New World*’s playin’, and there’s this line—“Love shall be our token”—and I’m like, damn, that’s deep. But love ain’t payin’ their bills, is it? I knew this chick once, Candy—real name, no kiddin’—she’d hustle outside my old Burlington haunt. Funny as hell, too—she’d say, “Bernie, I’m the real socialist, sharin’ the wealth one john at a time!” Cracked me up, man, but it broke my heart, too. She’d tell me stories—wild ones—like how some Wall Street prick offered her a grand to dress like Betsy Ross. Freaky shit, I tell ya!

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So, I’m sippin’ my coffee, feeling good, when I get a call on the radio. “Emergency at the train station!” What?! I spill my coffee all over my shirt. Great start, right? I hop on my bike and zoom down Špitálska Street. The wind’s in my hair, and I’m thinking, “This is gonna be a wild ride.”

Major General (Rtd) Ivan Otto Schwarz passes away