Old photographs

A little story, a little nugget, that I discovered while packing this morning.

Scanning my apartment, trying to discern what I needed to shove into a suitcase, and what would stay put, I rested my eyes on the sudo-canvas-photo-painting that I bought for two euros last year at the Differdange flea market.

I wanted something to pep up my stark white walls, and for two euros? I could leave it here. And really, while it's a nice black and white photo of a cafe scene, it wasn't something that I was in love it, but something I could enjoy for a year on my wall.

But today, I realized something. I looked more closely at the name of the cafe....'Cafe Brasserie du Dom'...I had been there. Last week.

In fact, it's one of my favorite moments of late, sitting at that cafe, waiting for him to arrive from the metro right across the street, sipping a cafe au lait, wearing my favorite blue dress, butterflies in my stomach.

I know it sounds weird, but it was one of those moments when it felt like puzzle pieces of my life clicked together. A painting bought a year and half earlier, a brief parisan rendez-vous, two different moments suddenly becoming intertwined.