egg and cress was perhaps not the most judicious choice for a busy, warm train carriage,
and both the sandwich and I were attracting disapproving looks from our fellow travelers.
I abhor eating in public at the best of times, so the eight-minute journey was not a pleasant experience for anyone concerned.
I found the nail concession at the rear of the Beauty Hall, a vast chandelier-lit barn of mirrors, scents and noise.
I felt like a trapped animal—a steer or a rabid dog—
and imagined the chaos I’d cause if, careering wildly, I was corralled in there against my will.
I clutched the leaflet tight in my fist, balled up inside my jerkin pocket.
“Nails Etcetera”—to what extras did the Latin term refer? I wondered—
appeared to consist of two bored children in white tunics, a breakfast bar with four stools and a rack of polishes in every hue from clear to tar.
I approached with caution. “WelcometoNailsEtcetraHowCanIHelpYouToday,” said the smaller girl-child.
It took me a moment to translate. “Good afternoon,” I said slowly, and in an exaggeratedly modulated voice,
to give her a clue as to how one ought to speak in order to communicate effectively.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색