A Monday like no other
That Monday, it was raining in Nantes. A fine drizzle typical of the Loire-Atlantique region. I sat down at the back of Café Penché, on Rue des Olivettes. The owner knew me and served me my usual: black coffee, no sugar.
At 10:10, I begin to lose hope. And then the door opens.
She enters.
She looks just like me. The same hazel eyes, the same head posture. She approaches, a shy smile on her lips.
“Is that you?”
I nod. She sits down. No words come, so I reach out my hand. She takes it. A shiver runs through me.
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