Another week, another flash fiction (despite spending the beginning of the week on painkillers from throwing my back out again…)
“I do not like to speak Spanish in public,” she said, hoping he and his bright, inquisitive eyes would just go away.
“Well, could I practice with you? I am having problems in my Spanish class.”
Kate (“Katiana,” her mother whispers in accented English) twirls a dyed blonde strand of her hair. She prays he has not heard her call home.
“No. I do not remember that much, anyway. I am sorry.”
“Lo siento, tambien,” he says, walking away.
That night, she hears Univision from her mother’s television and cries. It is a melodramatic soap opera.
She understands every word.