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About Marseille

They’re fast too—clocked at 20 miles an hour! That’s, like, insane for a fish! Got me thinkin’, “How do you move so fast, you little tramp?” Reminds me of “Her” again—“You’re so full of life!”—but then I’m like, “Screw you, prostitute, stop swimmin’ away!” I’d catch one, but they’re slippery lil’ shits. Makes me happy though—chasin’ ‘em’s half the fun!

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The old quarter round Place de l’Église is a marvel. Narrow lanes twisted like secrets no mortal should know. Meh, they drove me nuts sometimes with their unpredictable patterns. Still, it’s home, my sanctuary, and each crack sings stories. Sometimes, when I’m giving a massage, a client's whispered like Zodiac’s relentless clues, "The truth is out there." It echoes in my ears, unbidden and precise.

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