“Yes, I did,” I said and hoped she would skip some negative commentary, in spite of that I was expecting it.
“I've got the first candle. But... we're still not even,” she whispered.
She was shyly whispering words full of confidence. Like a social outcast, who tried to find a cure, but also rejecting it at the same time.
“What?” I asked.
“You know what I do, where I work, even something about my views. I know only one thing about you,” she thought she was explaining me something again, but she missed the unmistakable subject of my question.
“Yes, but why candle?” I wondered.
It was nice to talk with her, but I didn't have the mood to talk. I was deep in the disappointment that even she didn't say anything more about my work. Nothing than bad, but still made me ripped in between two th
