Salesman

translated into Spanighm then back into English...

salesman

The timbre sounded “who could stop close in this hour?”, I thought, but I put my compartment down and I crossed to the door. A man in a game of plaid been stopped in the lobby with a portfolio spent in its hand. He has a tired smile, the style businesses. It almost looked like genuine. Like him rambled in and around... Well, really I do not know what he said. I does not even know what it wished “which is he who sells?”, I thought, and my the track arrived to be navigated with its confused words. It looked like everything like absurd. But it looked like everything to have sense. I did not have taste of which I heard. But I tried to listen. I wished to listen. I had to grasp me to the doorframe: I had to maintain to me constant whereas thoughs of this man tried to strike to me down. Finally I stopped “what you you are trying to sell to me? Which are you trying to do?”, I requested.

Copyright Janet Kuypers.
All rights reserved. No material
may be reprinted without express permission.