[Im]perfection Dare: Day 1

Through Raindrops: À Travers Gouttes de Pluie

I sit at my table holding my coffee. I stared out through the raindrops on the window nearest me. I’ve always lived in this small town on the coast of France. I’ve always come to this exact café. Ever since my mother let me taste her coffee so many years ago, I was addicted. My mother. Sweet, darling, beautiful mother. I miss her.
There was a double tap on my table. Our secret knock. Me and Jean. Always together. I like always. A strong word. A word holding promises of forever. Something I’ve always tried to hold onto, but failed.
“Hé. (Hey)” He says. He sits. I continue staring through raindrops.
“Vous bien? (You okay?)” I finally look to him. There are bags under his eyes.
“C’est comme demander a une personne ‘pourquoi vous pleures?’ Inutile. (That’s like asking a person ‘why do you cry?’ Pointless.)” A corner of his lips twitch. Mine do too. Those are the first words I’ve spoken in days. The most in weeks.
“C’est vrai.(That’s true)”
“Je sais. (I know)”
He is my brother. Not by blood. By life. We feel the same. We share that family bond; the one that no one but us can sever.
We both went through the death of my mother. Admittedly, I was shaken slightly more than Jean. But she was my blood; while she was to him, family. The bond of a mother and daughter, I believe is one of the stronger bonds.
There are many bonds in this world. Whether good, or enchaining. The bond of families, the bond coffee has on me. These bonds can be broken, but something else is broken in the process. Trust. Hope. Minds. Love.
Jean and I sit still. Both lost in our thoughts. He looks out the window. I do the same. We both sit staring.

‘À Travers Gouttes de Pluie.’


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