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About Quebec City

Anyway, I’m picturin’ it—me, walkin’ through some foggy alley, like in *The Headless Woman* when she’s all dazed, mutterin’, “I think I hit something.” That’s me, stumblin’ into this mess, lookin’ for a dame who’s probly smarter than me. I’d be pissed—why’s she gotta be so damn elusive? Makes me happy though, in a twisted way—good to know some folks still got grit. Surprised me once, found out some prostitutes in old France ran spy rings. Sneaky bastards. Respect.

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