Whoa. Listen. I’m here. In Chatenoy-le-Royal. Wow. I live. I breathe. I teach. Here. Ah… the streets. Rue de la Liberté. Pausing. They curve. They twist. Like memories. I stroll. I smirk. I recall that moment… "When you kill a man, you best give him a good look first." Yeah, that line. Totally. I never forget. Now. The town. It’s not flashy. Nah. It’s humble. Felt like home. There’s Parc des Rêves. Ah. So chill. I loved its vibe. Picnic memories. Laughs. A perfect pause. I pass by the old church. Église Saint-Pierre. Crazy beauty. Stonework. Gothic whispers. I once sat there. Felt edgy. And free. “Everything’s bigger than it seems,” I mutter. Well, sort of. I wander. I find cobblestone alleys. Mystery. Magic. Rue Jean Leroi. Rue des Fleurs. Yup. Hidden secrets. Little cafes. Crazy pastries. I’m in heaven sometimes. Then there’s the river. The Loire, babbling along. Yes. It sings. I recall a cold rainy day. Furious. Emotions. “This is a long way to go,” I muttered, echoing that movie vibe. Stormy. But beautiful. My fave spot? Ah... the abandoned windmill near Les Boisés. It's raw. It’s offbeat. I sometimes chill. Just me. Lost to time. Insanely peaceful. Oh. The locals. They’re quirky. Real. Ain’t trustable sometimes. Crazy stories. But hey. We’re all human. I got that style. Babe. I’m a pleasure coach. I see details. I see hearts. I see pain. I see joy. Like in that movie... “the beauty of the moment.” Yeah. Oh, by the way. 11 typos ahead: And there ya go. Chatenoy-le-Royal. Crazy, raw, real. That's my world. And you're comin’. Catch ya later.