a meaningless story about cherries.

That snowy morning, Adrien was wearing a blouse that matched the colors of the sky.

It was the neutral color that includes shades of gray, white, and blue, the one that everyone can recall but no one can describe.

He was lying on the airport floor with a book in his hands. Lola thought he looked like he could be cast by Bernardo Bertolucci if he was still alive. Despite the snow, the sunlight was strong enough to hit Adrien right on the neck.

Lola sat next to him  - she was just in the mood for bothering someone.

Adrien assumed that Lola was an artist by the way she appeared; Not only she was wearing an extravagant fur coat, a pair of high boots, and huge eyeglasses, but she was also carrying a box of cherries around the airport. In his eyes, Lola looked just as every artist looks: flowing between the poetical and the pathetic.

“I cannot believe they sell cherries at the airport” she said.

“I cannot believe that someone is eating cherries in an airport”

“Do you want some?”

Adrien drowned his hand in the cherries box and grabbed three of them.

“Thank you. I am going to Florence, how about you?”

“I could be headed to Florence too.”

“They do sell cherries there.”

“Fair point…” Lola ate a cherry and then asked “What are you reading?”

“Hemingway” said Adrien.

“Oh, I hate that guy. I do adore how he writes though.”

‘This is the final call for Lola Bi, the airplane is now ready to leave for Paris Charles De Gaulle.’

“I will see you in Florence” said Lola before disappearing between lost and confident people wandering around.

Who was Lola and where was she headed, he will never know.