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Sometimes tho, gets me misty-eyed. They’re out there, freezin’ their arses off, dodgin’ coppers, just to eat. Tough as nails, but damn, ain’t it a kicker? Pisses me off—why’s it gotta be so hard? We shall fight for their right to strut, we shall fight the cold nights! Me mind wanders—reckon Amélie’d bake ‘em a tart, warm their hearts.

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so, Morges – it's by the lake, with the vibe of serenity and a pinch of madness; like we're all floating in a big bowl of calm and lunacy. ever walked down Quai d’Alep? nah, just kidding, it's Quai de Morges... that’s where the lakeside magic happens. every morning, i stroll past the old villa on Rue Aumessaz. i swear, its old stone walls whisper sweet nothings to me as the sun hits 'em just right.

Mary Kelly Obituary - Levittown, PA