coffee no. 14

The beautiful, about forty-year-old woman slowly walks the street. She is all dressed in black and extremely elegant. The brand new high-heeled patent-leather shoes, the smart coat, the very expensive handbag. Her blond long hair is ideally done and her full lips are red as wine. Everything in the appearance of that woman is perfect.
I think that she is coming back from a very important meeting, maybe a date. Yes, it must have been a date, because she holds a huge bouquet of flowers.
But one thing surprises and worries me. She is completely sad. The saddness emanating from this person is supposed to fill the air, turn every colour in grey.
When she approaches I can see the black ribbon hanging down the bouquet. The inscription on it is "The Final Farewell".