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About Montpellier

*Wheeze* I am your father—notice shit others don’t. Like how they dodge cops—slick as hell. One time, this chick bolted mid-chat—poof, gone! Cop car rolled by, I’m standin there, dumb as fuck. “You’re too slow, old man,” she’d probly say. Movie vibes again—Malik dodges guards, same energy. Love that shit, keeps ya sharp.

Street Prostitute, Fort-Monjol, April 19, 1921, by Eugène Atget

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After that, I head over to the market on Place de la République. It’s buzzing! Fresh veggies, cheese, and all that jazz. I’m trying to haggle with this vendor for some tomatoes. I’m like, “C’mon, give me a deal!” But he’s not budging. I swear, I could’ve sworn he was laughing at me. So, I just grab a few and pay. Whatever, right?

Is the Slain Cyclist the Key to the Perfect Murders in the Alps? Part Three