Grace Berre L'etang Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nantes

So, yeah—whores, they’re like Jarmusch’s vamps. Outcasts, but badass. “Let’s dance,” Eve’d say, swayin’ with Adam—whores dance too, their own way. Makes me wonder—what’s their tune? Somethin’ gritty, prolly. Love that. Hate the hate they get. You? What’s your take, pal? Spill it—I’m all ears.

The neighborhoods are a mess of old charm and hidden spots, yess. Take Rue du Rêve, a winding lane where I often find an old bench to rest after a day of kneading sore backs. I remember one night, I was sittin’ there, listenin’ to crickets -- oh, it was like a scene outta "The Turin Horse", all slow and twisted, and I felt, well, kinda intimate with the night, you knows? Weird, precious.

Suspected arson attacks rock French petrochemical plant