Annie fluffed her white hair in front of the mirror, damp from her shower and smelling like lavender soap. The old woman gazing back at her was wrinkled and stooped, but her eyes were still bright blue. Pleased enough with her reflection, Annie winked at herself. She pressed the snaps of her housecoat together and said out loud, “Pretty good for ninety years old.” She spoke American English with no hint of an accent. “Now for coffee.” She carefully put her glasses on and shuffled across the sunny apartment.
Ah, I love Tel Aviv, she thought, drawing back the living room window curtain. The traffic on the streets boomed; one more day in the busy world. The bushes and date palm in the building’s garden stirred in the breeze, and Annie watched an iridescent black sunbird settle on the palm. The tiny bird gave a high peep like a note from a piccolo, and flittered off. Annie kept her hold on a handful of curtain, gave a sigh of pleasure, and inhaled the fresh morning.
“What’s today, Wednesday already? Yes, Wednesday. Moshe’s coming for his lesson later. The last before the big test. He’s smart, that boy. He’ll be fine.”
She straightened herself, as much as her creaky back let her. The body’s going, but the mind is still sharp, she told herself. Sharp as a tack. She turned the phrase over in her mind, liking the image it brought up. English was one of the languages she thought in. She’d taught English...
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