Member-only story
Once Upon a Time there was a Lady and a Café
Youth Passes in the Blink of an Eye With Makeup On.
Somewhere in time, there was a café that had once been new. In the 1980s, it exuded dynamism, with young men following the mustache fashion; others sometimes in jeans and sometimes with trench coats down to their feet. There were women with curly, voluminous hair, wearing velvet jackets with shoulder pads, and with red lipstick that was always in excess.
The owners were smiling at their new business, also new and hopeful for the future. And then there was her, Mrs. Matilde, who was still young in the purest of truths. But the winds of that time labeled her as old, especially because she was an old maid, synonymous with being finished. In her young 40s, she had become a regular at the café and had been so throughout her long life.
She went there every day, always in the morning. When she came in, she always ordered the same thing, “a custard tart and a latte.” She had once stood by the counter, but age had caused her to move to a small table near the window. There sat Mrs. Matilde, whose youth had been more scarce than old age. She sat there watching the people go by while the smoke from the hot milk wafted through the air and fogged up the window.
