Then Red Riding Hood grew up to become Red Riding Cape. And she was all naked and voluptuous underneath it all. Far from void, her eyes saw right through you, like modern airport scanners. A lot of people were quite helpless in front of her predatory skills. Where are you now, Mr. Wolf? Where are you now.
The English lessons carry on, and my mum is unhappy because the new method is not structured as she expected and there’s practically no grammar lesson. You know, like in the good old days. Especially she is unhappy because she cannot grasp the this that these those thingy. So I have served her a bit of her own medicine, motivational and all, a sort of “what’s the big deal, Mrs. Engineer, what’s the big philosophy?!”. On which occasion I have remembered Mrs. Maris, my fifth grade crush, the English teacher. In brief, she taught us that this is one, more over here, while that is one, more over there. For more, these are here and those are there. As simple as that. And so I remember to this very day. I also remember writing my first postcard for Mrs. Maris, on her birthday, stating “Happy New Year!”, because I again was in the fifth grade, a very early beginner in English, and that’s what we, me and my mum, had found in the Romanian-English dictionary. What days!
Yesterday a no, no day, today a maybe yes, yes day. At least I know what I have to do tomorrow.
It was not a bike, it was a watch, and it was not given to him, but taken.
Already the world looks more promising.
My card-in-a-stamp from Siena.
More proof that when something is gay size matters.
Disclaimer: just sayin’, I’m talking bullshit here. I have no idea about the people in the street.
Let me illustrate:
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