This is the world’s end. Yvonne, the bar owner, serves small glasses of red wine to card players, sells bread, grinds pepper, finds the right word, the day-saver phrase. This is the house where she was born, eighty years ago. She has traveled, but one day she decided to wait here for the world to come to her. A daily miracle. A Mexican woman walks from one side of the bar to the other with a rolling gait. A formerly sad customer is smiling again. From time to time, it’s the whole bar that exult. There is no coincidence: "All of those who come to me deserve it!” Yet, on the road, cars drive by at full speed, indifferent.
A selection of seashells and witty words to taste. The sea is not far. Nor is poetry. This is the beginning of the world.
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