It reminded me of a café in Paris. I had sat outside, against the window, watching Parisians rush home. It was already dark, the tail end of winter. Cold, like the devil’s sense of humour. A heater glowed red above me, yet the cold kept me company.
At Oysters and More in Village Market, one recent night, I felt that same cold, partly because I wasn’t appropriately dressed, and partly because the warmer was too far and being shared by two other tables.
