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About Toulouse

“Wanna ride, cowboy?” she says, and I’m like, “Git-R-Done, darlin’!” We haggle—15 bucks, 20, whatever—I ain’t no millionaire, but I got needs! Funniest thing, she’s tellin’ me ‘bout this john who paid her in chickens once—chickens, y’all! True story, swear it! I’m laughin’ my ass off, picturin’ her struttin’ with a coop under her arm.

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There are parks, oh yes, the Parc des Coteaux, a secret haven where we’d meet under the creeping twilight. I got so happy there, yess, so damn happy, watching the frolic of strangers and lovers in quiet mischief. But then, oh, the river, the little Ruisseau de Gonesse, trickling silently between the old mills, it hisses secrets, it does… Like, “Shh, sss, come closer, my sweet, come listen to the ancient memories.”

The 2000 Air France Concorde crash