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About Marseille

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

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Thou must try the tiny bistro, La Petite Muse, on Rue des Etoiles. Their coffee doth wake mine senses as if Shakespeare himself poured ambrosial nectar into mine cup. In truth, when I cried, “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” I meant that sometimes, life’s bitterness is best tempered by sweetness—like our quirky little town.

Clara Bueltel Obituary September 15, 2017