We were with my husband in a cafe and drinking coffee.
Her husband was young and beautiful, and I loved him.
I wore an old coat, which spoiled my life. I suffered from an inferiority complex, and hated that coat that is not warmed, but only disfigured me.
The cafe was cheap and tasteless coffee.
And I dreamed that one day we'll drink good coffee in a nice restaurant, and I'll be fashionably dressed. Her husband looked at me with shining eyes, he loved me and did not know what I grieve.
... He died young, and I stayed.
And then my life has been a lot of different cafes and coffee, and a lot of fashionable coats.
But it was not.
I am often reminded of this episode when I had everything, but I did not know about.
An excerpt from the book by Elena Horn "On fireflies and humidors»
Photos in the preview: parlez-vousphotography
via
parlez-vousphotography.quietplacetolive.com/page/23/