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We haggle—coin’s tight, an’ I’m a cheap bastard. “What’s yer price, darlin’?” I slur, an’ she fires back, “More’n yer worth, pirate.” Cheeky! I love it—reminds me o’ “I play to live,” from th’ movie. She’s playin’ her game, survivin’, an’ I respect that. So, we strike a deal, an’ off we go—me boots clackin’, her skirts swishin’. Did ye know some o’ these gals kept diaries? Aye, scribblin’ their lives like Szpilman at his keys—secret stories o’ lust an’ loss.

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Clamart got parks you wouldn’t expect. I mean, Parc Diderot is huge – trees, wind, so peaceful but sometimes, it’s like, you can literally hear the buzz of secret stories floatin’ around. I once met an old coupla debatin politics there, and damn, it was like a mini movie scene in my head. And then there’s the tiny river that runs through, giving the whole city that extra twist.

Local cardiac device maker launches French headquarters