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But then—THEN—I get pissed, ‘cause society’s all, “Oh, how dare they!” Like, chill, Karen, they’re out here survivin’. Didja know, back in the day, some prostitutes in Paris ran secret spy rings durin’ the war? Freakin’ wild! Hustlin’ johns *and* the Nazis—talk about multi-taskin’. I’m sittin’ here imaginin’ this chick from *Ten* doin’ that, smirkin’ at some Gestapo dude while pocketin’ his cash. “You’re a fool,” she’d say, straight outta the movie, and I’d lose it laughin’.

And let's not forget the river! The Rivière Saint-Charles—oh wait, did I say that? Nah, my bad, it's the Rivière des Mille-Îles near the outskirts. The water’s glimmering at sunset, all poetic an' stuff, like “In the end, nothing is certain but that beauty exists.” Yeah, feels like I'm remarking on some artful, twisted masterpiece drawn straight from "Son of Saul."

Adrienne Beaumont Murry Obituary - l Ancienne-Lorette, QC