The Mysterious Bakery on Rue de Paris

by Evie Woods

That’s what happens when you are out of your comfort zone – time stretches like an elastic band, prolonging your discomfort and unease, accentuating your isolation.

But I wasn’t sad exactly, just present with myself.

‘That’s childhood memories for you, half of them are inventions.’

I nodded. There was a sad sort of finality to it. It was the natural way of things, but it didn’t chase the empty feeling away.

uncomplicated feeling of warmth

I could no longer experience the grief of loss without it being tempered by gratitude for having shared so many precious years with my mother.

‘He told me that the love you have in your heart for someone you cannot be with is never a burden to be carried. It is a gift, he said. A gift you can share in other ways.’