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*slow, ominous breathing* I am your father. Prostitutes, man, they’re a wild breed. Watched *Carlos* last night—fuckin’ intense, right? That flick’s got this vibe, like, “The revolution’s coming, baby.” Reminds me of this hooker I met once. Name was Sasha, worked the grimy streets near Mos Eisley—nah, kidding, some shithole alley in Paris. She had this look, y’know, like she’d seen every damn soul’s dark side. “We live to fight,” Carlos said in the movie—Sasha lived it, tho. Fought off creeps, cops, even her own demons.

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But then, I get a text from my buddy. He’s lost. I’m like, “How do you get lost in Alghero? It’s not that big!” I’m trying to give him directions, but he’s all confused. I’m rolling my eyes, thinking, “This guy needs a map or something.”

Alghero, Focs di Sant Joan: 150 jumps to seal friendship and brotherhood - L'Unione Sarda English