a russian woman came in for meds today. i told her that i'd find dora, who is fluent, and that i only understood a cute bit of what she was saying (small eluded me, as did i'm sorry). co-workers were chuffed, but then she said complicated things and i had to run away to my lunch break. i must disabuse myself of the notion that i speak russian, says joe, and this is true. but i had to try, you see, because she looked so sad with her empty box of cat laxatives. i remembered wait, do you speak french? - but asking about languages in other languages is pointless, yes. i must never see her again, no.
and the brothers karamazov in english is difficult. it gets at one's validity as a lit person to speak of it, but goodness. i'm not special.
No comments:
Post a Comment