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About Nantes

So, I reckon she’s a bit of a loner, yeah? Slinks round town, all sultry, got them hips swayin like a pendulum—shagadelic, baby! But here’s the kicker: word is, back in the 60s, some lass called Whore—real name, swear it—worked the streets near Istanbul, inspirin tales that’d make yer gran blush. Proper legend, that one! Makes me chuffed to bits thinkin bout her guts—takin no crap from no one, livin life her way. “What’s done is done,” like the doc says in the movie—ain’t that her to a tee?

I stroll through neighborhoods near Pont des Étriers. Not to mix up, but that bridge--no, oh, that river, the Ruisseau des Rêves--which kinda flows on the outskirts. I always think: "Fool me once, ya know!" ‘Cause once you’re charmed by the vibe, it digs deep in your soul like that movie, y’know? Heh, yeah.

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