Je ne suis pas de celles qui meurent de chagrin

A woman sits cross-legged on a stone bench outdoors, lost in reading or writing on papers. Barefoot, with her shoes set aside and a bag nearby, she seems deep in thought, touched by chagrin as sunlight casts shadows on the wall behind her.

A woman sits cross-legged on a stone bench outdoors, lost in reading or writing on papers. Barefoot, with her shoes set aside and a bag nearby, she seems deep in thought, touched by chagrin as sunlight casts shadows on the wall behind her.