Stups

Stups

A large metal door that slides open to let in police vans. Men come out, with their stories. Walls, gaols, stone staircases, courtrooms, backstage, tears, cries, glances. The Marseille court is overwhelmed by drug cases. The people on trial there are the managers of an economy of chaos. They are also the small-scale workers in the drugs trade, children who have grown up alone. Below, the port, in the distance, the outlying districts, the boiling city, full of its wounds. And its beauty too.