I stood smoking in the back of the house. Children aged 10-12 are running in the courtyard.
Beyond the corner, a very puffy boy rolls out and goes somewhere deep in the yard. Nearby, some two girls start ticking his fingers and laughing. Parnisha turns and says with a voice with a whisper, an intonation like Don Corleone’s and actively gesturing:
“Yana, Yana, do you want to tell me something? Do you want to tell me something, dear? So come and tell me it in the face, Jan! And if you continue to scream behind my back, I’ll come and hit your thin ass!
I can’t stand it and start laughing. The guy turns to me, takes off his hat and, slightly bending his head, says:
Good night Mademoiselle.
Now this is my favorite boy in the yard.