JOHN FOWLES

The Collector - fragments
 

Well, from that time on she ate normally, but it wasn't like before. She hardly spoke, if she did it was always sharp and sarcastic, she was so bad-tempered there was no staying with her. If I was ever there more than a minute when it wasn't necessary she used to spit at me to get out. One day soon after, I brought in a plate of perfectly nice baked beans on toast and she just picked it up and hurled it straight at me. I felt like giving her a good clip over the earhole. About this time I was fed up with the whole thing, there didn't seem any point in it, I tried everything, but she would keep on holding that evening against me. It was like we had reached a dead end.

Alina Roxana Fati (Chirila)

John Fowles
 

Ei bine, din acel moment a inceput sa manance normal, dar nu mai era ca inainte. Abia daca vorbea, si cand o facea, era mereu dura si ironica; era atat de irascibila, ca nu se putea sta cu ea. Daca stateam mai mult de un minut atunci cand nu era nevoie, ma scuipa sa ies. Curand dupa aceea, intr-o zi, cand i-am adus o farfurie cu pastai perfect prajite pe paine, a luat-o si a aruncat-o spre mine. Imi venea sa ii dau una. Deja ma saturasem de toata aceasta situatie, parea ca nimic nu are sens, incercasem totul, dar ea imi tot reprosa seara aceea. Era ca si cum ajunsesem intr-un punct mort.