cobi and the queens

So last week I had lunch in the 7th.  The host was older and so were the guests, mostly American.  The name tag handed out the beginning reminded as much.  Someone bought tairas.  It was a queen's lunch after all, she said. 

We all sat down and chatted getting to know each other.  Then the host rang a bell to get our attention.  

This bell was a wedding present, she said offhandedly. I don't know what it's for but I use it to get people's attention, she smiled.  

It's probably a bell of truce, offered one of the guests.  You're suppose to ring it during arguments to bring the couple back to one another. 

We all considered this as we moved to the table.  Lunch was served.  Afterwards the host asked us all to share a secret.  Like a good host she started.  

It was a good one. 

Followed by an even better one by an even older woman beside her. 

And so and so it went, women sharing a part of themselves oftentimes reaching far into the past and giving it life again.  Reliving it as if it were yesterday, a glimmer of mischief in their eye.