The woman who passes the cafe, with her heavy breasts and her airy sunday dress, told me the story with her eyes of her yearning for an affair.
She reads the books.
Her husband leaves her alone to her fantasies. In her resentment for being left alone she indulges in fantasies of passion and intrigue.
She says to herself, I just want to have an affair. She sits with her sex in the city friends and tells them, I just want to have an affair.
She will look back at her life in a time when she is not beautiful enough for men to hang from her breasts by their lips. She will look back at her novels of fantasies and be at peace with her lack of affairs.
When she passes the cafe she looks for a young man's eyes.