We walked down the stairs of our small apartment. Through the glass door on the bottom floor, we saw an old lady with a trolley. She looked sweet. We walked through the door and greeted the lady with Hola’s and a Buenos Dias. She turned towards us and began to speak. I was surprised. It was a torrent of fast, mask-muffled Spanish. As she spoke her voice went up and up and up. Harsher and harsher. She kept speaking and by the end, I had translated a grand total of 0 words. Before we had a chance to answer her, she huffed and turned away. In her mind, she had cleared up her issue. I looked at Molly, hoping she would have understood.
“did you get any of that?”
“not a word, I heard something about sitting but that doesn’t make much sense”
“Why was she so angry?”
“No idea”
We turned to walk into the street and saw she was going in the same direction we wanted to go.
We decided to go somewhere else.
Oliver's Travels 