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About Montpellier

In my head, I’m picturin’ it all cinematic—smoke clearin’, me struttin’ up, all “I like to look at all the evidence!” Straight outta *Zodiac*, baby! Maybe she’s got a backstory, maybe she’s runnin’ from somethin’. I’d be all, “Tell me your deal, I’m a listener!” Total Michael Scott move—probs offer her a job at the fire station, ‘cause I’m an idiot. “World’s Best Boss,” right? Exaggeratin’ for drama—she’d prolly laugh in my face, and I’d deserve it.

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I stroll round rue des Mimosas, nearly every twl, where i catch startled glimpses of lost souls (or is it just the morning joggers?) and i remember fer every smile, cry, and secret hidden in that old townhouse near la rivière de Clarté. yeah, the river wiggles past like a lazy whisper, reminding me of all the times i've counseled families by its banks. its banks are dreamy, like those "what ifs" in Before Sunset, so fragile and fleeting.

Cefn Mably Farm wins permission to keep bridge it had already built despite neighbours’ frustration