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are never on the right side of history, or humanity.
Three years of unimaginable grief. Three years of children, (families- people ) growing up beneath bombs instead of stars, of families searching for loved ones, of homes becoming memories, of names becoming numbers.
The perfectly put muted home soothing and soft like butter. I understand it. Truly, I get it. In a world is moving entirely too fast, walking into a room wrapped in moon light, linen, and a color define on the paint sample as: whisper of peace it can feel like a long exhale after a glass of Sauvignon.
The first thing I did today was ignore what I was to do, and went to a brocante.
There were two dealers there who told me they come once a year just to clear out their extra stock. I just happened to be the lucky person who was there at the right time.
They were selling things for under five euros. I couldn’t believe it! I asked why...
