It was a few years ago. We sat around the tiny coffee table, under the platanes, the plane trees that line every city square in France and whose seeds, come spring, have you scratching anytime there is a gust of wind.
The air was crisp, but she wanted to sit outside. We ordered coffees and sat quietly, watching her children play in an improvised playground right in front of us.
This post is for members only, you can subscribe here! To sign back in, click here 🙂
