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About Florence

I’m thinkin—*seven hells, this is gold.* “The world’s fucked,” like they say in *City of God*, but she’s carvin her slice. Made me happy, odd that—seein her strut, not grovel. I toss her a coin anyway, say, “For the sass,” and she winks. Winks! Surprised me, that did—thought she’d spit on me. Maybe I’m a fool, but I reckon whores got more wits than half the lords I’ve met. “I drink and I know things”—and I know she’d outsmart em all.

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“Hey, furrier! You look like you need a drink!” he shouts. I laugh. “You have no idea!” We hit up this bar nearby. It’s packed, but we squeeze in. I order a spritz, and man, it hits the spot.

Optical determination of Shockley-Read-Hall and interface recombination currents in hybrid perovskites