Is it Russian that she’s speaking? I can’t quite tell, I can’t make it out. (I think, actually, it’s Czech.)
She sits next to me, speaking in a steady stream into her phone, occasionally apologizing to me in accented English. She’s agitated, enthusiastic. Not upset, but not happy. More like – solving a problem that’s important to someone, but not necessarily to her.
Her hair, straight, brown, shiny, stops at her shoulder blades. Her shoulder blades stretch the green knitted sweater at the back, as her C-cup breasts stretch it out in front, her cleavage distractingly visible.
Her face is long, her skin smooth, and brass hoop earrings, more than an inch in diameter, hang from her ears. Her eyes are blue, bright, big, wide.