Where is Henri?


Down by the riverside? Drawing in his little notebook, or perhaps ogling the showgirls on the dirty streets of the Old Square. Who’s there? A noise.

Thought I heard something, the sound of feet on bricks, the splash of a puddle. Perhaps it was parakeets, or bulls running in the streets. You never know what you’ll find in this town.

If only I could find what I wanted.

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