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Carpenter’s eye, I spot the details. Her shoes? Worn heels, splintered like old timber. Tells ya she’s been at it ages. “Time’s a thief,” like in the movie—steals her youth, don’t it? Surprised me, though, she’s got this grin—pure mischief. Happy as a pig in shit, some days. Other times, she’s knackered, slumped like a busted chair.

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After that little drama, I needed a breather. I headed to the local market on Strada Călărași. Fresh fruits, veggies, and all that good stuff. I grabbed some apples – the juiciest ones I’ve ever seen. And then, I spotted this old lady selling homemade jams. I couldn’t resist. I bought a jar of raspberry jam, and let me tell ya, it was the best decision of my life.