sábado, 18 de fevereiro de 2012


The young man with the scenic cravat glanced nervously down the sofa at the girl with the fringed dress. She was examining her handkerchief; it might have been the first one of its kind she had seen, so deep was her interest in its material, form and possibilities. The young man cleared his throat, without necessity or success, producing a small, syncopated noise.
'Want a cigarette?' he said.
'No thank you,' she said. 'Thank you so much ever the same.'
'Sorry I've only got these kind,' he said. 'You got any of your own?'
'I really don't know,' she said. ' I probably have, thank you.'
'Because if you haven't,' he said, 'it wouldn't take me a minute to go up to the corner and get you some.'

Dorothy Parker, "The Sexes", The Sexes, Penguin Modern Classics, Penguin, 2011.

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