Thursday, June 9, 2016


Fiorella has long lamented her lack of opportunity to practice her fast-fading language skills, but today she struck oil. Bangaladesh called.

It rolled right off her tongue, the Russian she'd learned lo these many years ago.  Nothing complicated--"Speak in Russian, please;  I don't understand you; I don't speak English.  Do you speak Russian?"  But before she could start reciting Pushkin, her caller hung up.

Fio hopes she wasn't marked off the list.  She still has bits and pieces of about ten other languages to go.  Immo vero in senatum venit!

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