The white pudding beneath the strawberries melted in her mouth as she took a bite. It reminded her of Panna Cotta and something completely different, something that she used to love back in university.

It looked different from the little cakes she ate in Kulinichi, in Ukraine during those god-awful student years.

It definitely wasn’t made by the best pastry chef in Paris, but, at least, it looked like a dream.

This little heavenly cake brought more than just memories about its doppelgänger in Ukraine. It found her in-between, contemplating her life as always.

Misery followed her everywhere.

Has nothing changed?

This is an excerpt from my e-book

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Thank you for reading,