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Sophia's mother brings in the dinner plates and lays them on the table where containers with an assortment of vegetables and meat are set. Sophia looks at me I look at her. Her father sits at the top end eyeing the table cloth. Her mother sits down and the father says grace he closes his eyes as does his wife and Sophia closes hers. I close mine but allow a slit of space to see when Sophia opens hers again. This dinner invitation is an uneasy event like having a meal at Stalin's table or Al Capone's. The grace ends with a gruff amen. All eyes are open the mother speaks in Polish in chilly tones. The father looks at her then at me unsmiling he looks at Sophia. He says something to her in Polish she replies. I sit and watch the lips move wishing there were English dialogue lines above their heads to inform me of the scene. The father nods his head and his plump hands indicate for me to partake and put food upon my plate. The others take food with tongs or spoons. I timidly venture out and take a little of this and that until my plate is set out like a small child's meal. I sense an uneasiness at first hot then cold like one who's ill.
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Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
DINNER INVITATION 1969.
Sophia's mother brings in the dinner plates and lays them on the table where containers with an assortment of vegetables and meat are set. Sophia looks at me I look at her. Her father sits at the top end eyeing the table cloth. Her mother sits down and the father says grace he closes his eyes as does his wife and Sophia closes hers. I close mine but allow a slit of space to see when Sophia opens hers again. This dinner invitation is an uneasy event like having a meal at Stalin's table or Al Capone's. The grace ends with a gruff amen. All eyes are open the mother speaks in Polish in chilly tones. The father looks at her then at me unsmiling he looks at Sophia. He says something to her in Polish she replies. I sit and watch the lips move wishing there were English dialogue lines above their heads to inform me of the scene. The father nods his head and his plump hands indicate for me to partake and put food upon my plate. The others take food with tongs or spoons. I timidly venture out and take a little of this and that until my plate is set out like a small child's meal. I sense an uneasiness at first hot then cold like one who's ill.
A DINNER INVITATION IN 1969
TerryCollett
Written by
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 1:11 PM UTC
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