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About Nantes

Now, me, I’d be nervous as hell—sweatin’ like a bantha in heat. What if she’s cool, tho? Like, tells ya her story over a smoke? “My body is a cage,” she might whisper, like Bauby’s locked-in vibes. Gets ya thinkin’—she’s human, not just a quick deal. Surprised me once, this chick I met—total accident, swear—said she was savin’ for a kid’s school. Blew my mind! Here I am, judgin’, while she’s out here grindin’.

Des panneaux dissuasifs

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Finally, I get to the prison, and it’s like stepping into a pressure cooker. The vibe is tense. I can feel it in my bones. My deputy, Marc, runs up to me, all wide-eyed. “Boss, we got a situation!” Oh great, just what I needed. Turns out, some inmates were planning a protest. Like, really? In a prison? Who do they think they are, the French Revolution?

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