At the age of 25, she actually opened her own small bar in Lijiang. It's called „Tear“ and it's not far from the foot of the snow-capped mountains. Every morning I open the window and see them right in front of me. I came here at 18 with this boy. That's when I read a strange essay by Alai called „A Drop of Water Flows Through Lijiang“. And only now did I realize that the drop was not water, but a tear. Everyone who comes here leaves one tear, whether of joy or sorrow.

My business is special. I'm a northern girl, so the song I play most often is „Girl from the South.“ I tell everyone who comes: „Leave me a story or a song and I'll give you a free coffee or drink.“ And so the walls of her bar are covered with photographs and postcards of all kinds, along with messages written in various languages. As the others tell their stories, she listens quietly and remembers carefully. Then she repurposes the stories under other people's names and posts them on her blog.

One day a young man walked in. He played her his own composition on the guitar and told her that the inspiration came from his deep and beautiful relationship, which he had never had the opportunity to play for anyone before. He told me about every moment with the girl in his song - about sunrises and sunsets together, about the sea and the mountains, about noisy streets where they laughed together, about quiet parks where they talked about all kinds of things. When they were alone, they argued until they smoked, but when they were among people, they understood each other incredibly well in silence.

I smiled. „This is so familiar,“ I said to myself in my head. I ask him why he's alone now. He replies that his girlfriend has decided to return to her hometown for a stable job, while he prefers to roam the world with his guitar and camera. She put down her coffee and shared her own story with him. They were so much alike. The young man asked in return, „And why are you alone? What about the one you came here with when you were eighteen? Did you leave him behind too because of some little thing you were snaking or out of some regret?“ I couldn't control myself and burst out laughing into my hands. She said his name without thinking.

And then a disheveled head emerged from the warehouse: „What are you yelling at me for? I'm getting cramps from the coffee grinding, I have to drive a cab tonight, and you're still here handing out free coffee and drinks and talking to everyone! I really can't take it anymore, let's break up, I'm going back tomorrow, do whatever you want, I'm getting sick of it all!“ He's been saying those words to her reproachfully for seven years now, but it seems he's still alive and well. She's decided she's going to keep on being angry with him.

Miroslava Krásová