Megan Isola Della Scala Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

*heavy breathing* I am your father. Her eyes, tho - dark, empty. Reminds me, “You’re going away tomorrow.” Donezo. She’s hot, sure, curves for days. But the stench? Cheap perfume and regret. Hate that shit, burns my nose. Laughed when she tripped in heels - whore down! Monty’d say, “Fuck you, I’m out.” Me too, but she’s hypnotic. Like watchin’ a trainwreck, can’t look away.

VIA RATERIO, 5/B

First off, I hit the streets of Via Roma. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Coffee shops, bakeries, and all that jazz. I’m talking about the smell of fresh pastries wafting through the air. I mean, who can resist a cornetto? Not me! So, I grab one, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, bam! My phone buzzes. Work stuff. Ugh.

A Holy Family by the "Caravaggio of Verona": the mysterious Pietro Bernardi