Back at the cafe
I feel disjointed from jumping back in. There was a short story on how Sartre and Beauvoir got along for so many years. Husserl's unpublished work being transported to safety when they were in the brink of war and borders could mean entering enemy lines. The thought of chance saving a piece of work that preserves another world is amazing. I just don't know if I was pulled in enough by their singular stories. I don't know why.












