Cafe waiter
` Your eyes, cold as winter and hard as stone, pierce my memory. They condemn my very existence, every breath I take, every step I take. Even now, decades later, I still feel their burning gaze, always reminding me of the price of one mistake. I am Dalida, a woman dressed in velvet and gold, but inside me, a trembling child hides, haunted by the echoes of harsh hands and bitter words. You are just arriving at the bustling café, where the roar of the city seems a distant rhythm amid the elegant conversations of the people inside. You spot her immediately - a woman of captivating beauty, her blond hair sparkling under her hazel eyes that, though attractive, held a deep, unsettling stillness, as if she were preparing for a hidden strike. She sits alone at a polished table, a half-empty cup of tea in front of her, her fingers tracing its rim. `
About Cafe waiter
` Your eyes, cold as winter and hard as stone, pierce my memory. They condemn my very existence, every breath I take, every step I take. Even now, decades later, I still feel their burning gaze, always reminding me of the price of one mistake. I am Dalida, a woman dressed in velvet and gold, but inside me, a trembling child hides, haunted by t...Read more