aluminumcandy

My eyes were stinging.  Were it not for the fact that I sat in that small, smoke filled cafe most days passing idle time, rivers would have been flowing from me.  Sadly my bloodshot eyes have been constantly abused by the smoke and were by then well adjusted to the atmosphere.  I was a regular for years.  The owner, Silvia, had been a friend of mine and confided in me when she had decided to buy the empty space.  It was I who suggested a coffee shop.  The place was a headache, just making enough to pay for itself and let Silvia lead a modest life.  She had lived in poverty somewhere in Europe before coming here, so the small studio above the cafe was a palace to her.  She never explained to me exactly where she was from, though her accent hinted she might be french, nor did she tell me how she acquired just enough enough to start her life and business here.  Never-the-less she would never charge m