Yesterday I met with the guy who owned the apartment before me, in court. We sat on opposite sides of a table saying opposite things about the stupid floor issue.
He looked a bit like an elf with pale alabaster skin and huge black eyes like ponds deep in a forest. His features were very fine and kind of frail. His hair, straight and black, fell in strands passed his high cheek bones down to his chin. Like an elf or a vampire.
But he had this way of speaking: his voice very loud and deep and a thick accent that made me think of tractors and countryside, and he blurted out the words so that I started imagine him on a trimmed moped somewhere on a country road, on his way to "town" to get a hot dog with "the boys" at the local hangout kiosk.
Then I realised that a famous and admirable writer must have spoken like that. She lived on a big mansion in the area in the last century, writing books about very serious things, but also books that children would love. Also, she had mistresses.
We reached an agreement on 5000 crowns.
love your illustration. if i'll ever be a writer, i'll ask you to illustrate my book!
SvaraRadera