Independance

A five euro note scrumpled up in his hand, the length of Rue Delcasse to walk down, alone. I wait in the car at the end of the street,for what seems an inordinate length of time. I imagine him standing on tip toe at the counter, head tilted back to give his order. The Portuguese lady leaning over, asking him to repeat.
The prize? Two baguettes, a small bag of croissants and the most incredible sense of accomplishment.