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About Genoa

Me, I’m sat there, thinkin’, bloody hell, Red’s a legend, but society? Bunch of muppets. “They saw her goodness,” like Grace, but nah, they still screwed her over. Makes me wanna scream, mate - why’s it always the good ‘uns gettin’ shat on? Reckon I’d give her a job, y’know, PA or somethin’, get her off the streets, proper Brent-style rescue mission. “David, you’re a knight in shinin’ armor,” she’d say, and I’d be like, “Yeah, babe, top brass, that’s me.”

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Lunchtime rolls around. I head to the little café on Piazza della Libertà. I grab a panino and a soda. The sun is shining, and for a second, I forget about work. I see some kids playing soccer. They’re so into it. I miss those carefree days.

Thomas Edward Hogan