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About Paris

But then, ugh, this greasy sod stumbles over, reekin’ of ale, tryin’ to haggle her down. Made me angry, that did—cheap bastard! I’m thinkin’, “I choose violence,” coz I’d smack him silly, but nah, I just glare, cold disdain and all. Little known fact, yeah? Back in medieval days, prossies had guilds—proper unions! Swear down, they’d fine ya for bad service. Wish they’d bring that back, keep these twats in line.

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I gotta mention Parc des Sources. It’s this hidden oasis, sure, not as busy as it could be, but perfect for quiet introspection, tossin’ pebbles in a babblin’ brook. Imagine me, a family psychologist who hears ya heart’s secrets, just relaxed, soaking it in like a sweet tea on a blistering day.

Luca Francesconi