This is how I see my retirement.
Sitting on a chair on the busy street in Provence countryside.
Well, I mean countryside-like-busy.
I am sipping tea in my favourite patisserie.
My wife on a white iron chair across the table.
Shaking her head in deep disappointment I haven’t learnt to drink coffee in 74 years.

I finished my tea. I am looking around.
Pretending I am younger that I really am.
We would have left already but our knees need some rest.
I am eagerly waiting for that beautifully old Renault 4 van to crawl from behind the corner.

And here it is.
Moment I spot its heavily tired look, I feel better.
I am not the only one trying to keep all the loose body parts on a cobblestone road together.
Fourgonnette moves like the slowest jelly you ever seen.
Like it was looking for all the chrome shine it lost over last decade.
I have enough time to count all the scratches, dents or rusty flowers.
To make sure that any single one got fixed.

Engine is turned off few seconds before car actually stops.
Fourgonnette rolls last meters on its own.  Quietly.
I can only hear restrained squeaking of lazy breaks.
So they let you know they are still there.

It stops just across the road.
At very same spot for last 4 years.
And as every morning, fourgonnette rests for a while before it opens its doors.
I fully understand. But I can’t wait.
Because when Fourgonnette does open that door, I don’t know what makes me happier.
Look onto hundreds of carefully laid gold baguettes.
Or the warm and refreshing smell of it.
























If you decided to build this diorama, don’t forget to share the final result with us.