Tired Old Tales for Tuesdays
status viatoris – being ‘on the way’/being in a state of pilgrimage
I have finally got myself a language exchange partner.
Sadly not the 6ft, raven-haired, dark-eyed hunk of unruly Italian masculinity that I had been hoping for; more a 4ft10, brown-haired, dark-eyed slip of Italian womanhood, but very welcome nevertheless. Especially in light of the fact that I seem to get away with conversing in Italian far more than she gets to practise her English.
Being single girls, and of roughly the same age, most of our conversations in both languages so far have been about boys. She has been giving me the low-down on Italian men – confirming most of what I had originally suspected, and I have been making stuff up about British ones.
Not having been anywhere near one since I was eighteen, my fictional Brit seems to have taken the middle ground somewhere between…
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