|
Written by Sally Hammond
|
|
Tuesday, 18 July 2006 |
Mrs Shout's brown eyes are firmly locked with mine.
Our faces nearly touch, as if we are lovers. Or at the very
least, close friends.
But we are not. We only met a few minutes ago. And now she
is shouting at me in Italian. Not angrily, of course, but the way people do to
a persistently stupid person. Maybe that is what she thinks I am.
"Why can't she understand me?" I can almost make out her thoughts
above the din, as she earnestly searches my face for a glimmer of
comprehension, but finds none. "I'd better repeat myself," I can see her
thinking, "LOUDER!"
And she does. |
|
Last Updated ( Friday, 21 July 2006 )
|
|
Read more...
|