Milano Baby

The city hisses with overheating asphalt smoking, windows reflect other windows, and thoughts scatter like pigeons in a square. Everything seems both important and meaningless: calls, meetings, likes, these endless turns on the inner "highway of life," where someone is always cutting you off. She's like a navigator who only gets lost when he's around. Where the roar of engines mixes with the beat of a heart, and feelings smell of gasoline and unspoken words. Milan clicks its teeth, bites with mosquitoes, promises the sea, but slips in corks. And yet, from this hustle and bustle, a strange attraction is born, a little nervous, a little dangerous, like a scene from a series that no one wants to watch until the credits roll.