“Yes, Mabel, it's
totally true.”
She was talking on the
phone to her best friend. Her best friend was really her least-worst
friend and she simply tolerated her as it was better than being
alone.
“No, it was the
bloody Spanish. They took all our fish.”
She'd reached the stage
many years previously where her racism had moved from casual to
formal.
“They did!”
Mabel clearly didn't
agree with her and she was becoming more agitated.
“Yeah? Well that's
because you're probably a lover of the fucking Spanish, Mabel. They sleep all
afternoon, you know? I bet you think the Common Market was a good
idea too.”
She slammed the phone
down and switched on the television.
No comments:
Post a Comment