Fund could not have predicted that Severino Kwizera, unused to the ways of the “First World” (Mr. He hoped never to feel that way again, but no man could predict the future. In the past, he had longed for similar release. Fund wanted to be nothing more than a bag of bones, heavy spirit laid to rest. Why would the Facilities Manager deny himself when there were, more often than not, snacks arrayed on plastic trays in the library’s staff lounge, liters of soda for the taking in the refrigerator? Perhaps beneath the thin skin of his impatience, Mr. Fund was impatient because he was thin? Severino had never seen the man eat a bite of food on the job. Fund was, in addition to being impatient, far too thin. In Severino’s opinion (never to be shared), Mr. Jim Fund in moments of impatience, muscles taut as wire twanging in his jaw, Severino did his best not to recall. Some proved helpful, provided reminder or inspiration- a stitch in time saves nine-and for these Severino was grateful. Severino knew a few expressions in English now, thanks to his boss, the Facilities Manager at the Bethelsville Public Library. Clean water gushed effortlessly from the tap. A clockwise turn continued to be his first impulse, but he thought again- righty, tighty, lefty, loosey-and twisted the spigot to the left. Severino Kwizera splashed disinfectant into the big yellow bucket on wheels, then hoisted the bucket into the metal utility sink.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |