Breakfast in Istanbul by Brian Martin-Onraet (part 2). A must read short story inspired by my daily sketches
I needed to get dressed for that party the Philosopher had invited me to. And, of course, I had nothing to wear. Please do not smile my reader friend. That is always a delicate matter. The little black dress (Oh Tiffany! Oh, Givenchy!) is of course, always a possibility. But no. Too easy. I wondered why I’d paid 40 bucks a piece for two additional suitcases to find myself with nothing to wear. So I rummaged and rummaged and found an old Cheong Sam (your typical body-hugging Chinese dress) I’d bought once for a wedding and never wore again. It made me look like a Chinese waitress. Why had I packed it still is a mystery.
Yet here was the solution for this intellectual party the Philosopher was throwing. I took a pair of scissors and sewing kit. A girl should never travel without a pair of scissors. I cut…
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