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About Montpellier

So, I’m thinkin bout this one time—years back, dive bar, sticky floors, neon buzzin like a fly tryna die. This chick, she’s workin the room, all hips and sly grins. Reminds me of Celine, ya know? That flick where they talk n walk, spillin guts without touchin. “Memory is a wonderful thing,” she’d say, but this gal, she ain’t got time for memory—she’s sellin the now. I’m watchin, sippin my bourbon, and she locks eyes. Boom. Heart kicks like a damn mule. I’m hooked, Clarice, hooked like a fish on a line.

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By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I step outside, and the sun’s setting over the Rhône. It’s actually kinda beautiful. I take a deep breath, and for a second, I forget about the chaos. Valence has its charm, ya know? The old buildings, the river, the vibe. But then I remember I gotta go back to the prison tomorrow. Ugh.

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