A Girl From Cherbourg

A girl in Cherbourg We sat in a bar in Cherbourg a town still struggling after a war to become just another French coastal town Sitting with mates from the ship can be tedious, and if you happen to be a cook, someone is bound to voice a complaint I went for a walk, in streets, with few lamps if one adds rain it was a road suffering after a long war. In the murk, a place of light, a small café/shop, a few tables looked inviting in its simplicity; I had coffee and calvados. A filly came prancing in, tall with long legs, full of youth Sat down at my table; I asked if she was hungry, and she was and ate a big plate of stew. As things are in life, we sharing a bed for the night. While she was busy preparing the bed, I sat in a chair thinking about a short story by Hemingway about a boxer who owned money to the mafia, and they were out to kill him, he was tired of running. I tried to alter the sad ending, but must have fallen asleep, when waking it was five in the morning, I had to get back to the ship, my day started at six. I had a coffee and a calvados to sustain me she the filly ate a baguette; saw her dance down the street, followed by the morning breeze promising her a life of happiness.