“Funny joke, mon ami! Want to head back to the Ship Rock? A slight detour for such beauty and the snakes! Oh, dear me, speaking of those majestic reptiles I neglected to introduce you to my petit ami, this is Jacques.” A luminous grey Gaspard was sitting in the cab with him, his now rotting flesh almost touching his leg, intimately close as Europeans often do. The rattler was affixed to his neck and he stroked its long tubular body, grabbing the rattle violently and shaking it as a fussy baby in a cradle. “Hello, Mr Driver! Hello murderer! Long time no suck, no? I went back home to my beloved Mont St Michel in a cardboard box packed with dry ice. Never again to dance with the tides, witness the gay colored lights shine on the wet cobblestone as I stroll to the next glass of pastis.” He lea
