(Povídka / Short story)
“Do you mind?”
I looked up and stared at a man, my old school notebook still opened on one of the café’s round tables. The ice cubes in my cocktail were melting slowly. The water was flowing from the glass and was creating little puddles on the wooden tabletop. One spill expanded and it touched the edge of my new blue notebook. I heard a lady who owns that little antique behind the corner again. “This is an old notebook. Very old.” It seemed to me that she had warned me. “Do not use it for anything silly thing,” I understood. I closed it and put it on my lap.