When Irena saw Josef at the airport, she remembered every detail of their long-ago adventure; Josef remembered nothing. From the very first moment their encounter was based on an unjust and revolting inequality.
“I thought you weren’t going to enter.” 他一邊說一邊倒飲料。
“Enter?” 三月在他沙發角坐下,雙腳不安的磨蹭。
他的笑一直停留在嘴角,”yes, I saw you walking around Gaspe Avenue.”
“Here, have a drink.” 他走近三月遞給她手中的玻璃杯。
三月才喝了一小口臉就馬上皺起來,她早知道自己會有這個反應。
“What’s wrong?”他雙眼充滿不解的盯著她。
看到他那樣盯著她三月更不安了,她低著頭回說,”I have a very childish taste.”
“What does that mean?”
突然之間三月感到比較放鬆了,她讓身子往後攤在沙發上,手握著的玻璃杯落在她散著的紅裙上,一頭黑髮散在他淺色的沙發上。 “I hate alcohol, coffee’s too bitter for me, I can’t even drink tea with caffeine.”她漫不經心得說,好像這再正常不過。
他嘴角的笑變得更大了,這讓三月又開始不安。她把自己撐起來坐好解釋說” I like sweet stuff, like strawberries, and chocolate.”