This is my last day in Kiev.
I took an Uber this morning. One last stop at Svit Kavy, World of Coffee.
Sergeï the driver was (mildly) talkative and smiling. Not something I'd experienced before here. He asked me (in English) if I spoke Russian.
I said: No, I don't.
After a little while, he asked me where I was coming from.
I told him I was coming from France.
He said that French people were not speaking English much, in general.
I told him: young people in French do speak English. My generation, a bit less.
Sergeï nodded: yes, bitless.
Then he mumbled and fumbled with his car radio a little while, until "Girl" started to play. "Is there anybody going to listen to my story... 🎼". He turned up the volume, smiled at me and repeated: bitless.
Eventually I got it.
I gracefully smiled and thanked him. I kept my LOL inside. Should be LIL actually, laughing inside loud.
While Yesterday was taking over Girl, Sergeï had actually a full CD, I thought that it would be good material for a 200WaD short story.
This is when my heart missed a beat. Or should I say, a bit?
200WaD. The streak. Did I write yesterday's post? Yes I did. Did I? I'm not sure. I think I did. Maybe I didn't? What did I write about? What was I thinking I'd write about?...
Sergeï dropped me off at the cafe, he told me, have a good day Philippe, and I'm sitting now on the terrace.
Sipping my Colombian pour-over.
And CIL--crying inside loud-- on my broken streak.