In his head, he was describing the beautiful melody of her voice. He was tasting every word of every sentence, listening all the best he could. He had never seen her before, which was a bit odd, since he lived in the sort of town where everyone know each other. She had long brown wavy hair, and her skin was pale but clear.
André had actually never been to the library before. His younger sisters were dragging him around, making him look at several colorfull childrens-books. Now that his mum had finally got a job, he had to watch his sisters on Mondays and Thursdays. Part of that watching was taking them to the library.
In the center of the little library, there was a stage. Not a big stage of cource, it was more of a box to stand on. That didn't matter though, because on that box was Elisabeth. She was reading out loud. They were poems, but André heard them as songs. She spoke with a different accent, it sounded more melodic than any other accent André had ever heard before. He felt too shy to just stand there and watch her, so he told his sisters to find the books they wanted to borrow.
Mum came home at 7. Beatrice was reading a story for Adele, about three pigs and a wolf. André was trying to paint something, but it was like he just couldn't focus.
"Did you make dinner?" mum asked.
- "I thought you'd bring some with you"
- "André, it's 7 o clock"
- "I realise that. I've looked, but I don't think we have any"
Her arms were inside her bag, she was trying to find her wallet. It contained nothing but a few cents.
"You know, you could just buy some bread and we could make sandwitches" André said.
An hour later, they were all eating french white bread on the sofa. He was still thinking about the girl from the library though. She seemed so intelligent, so sophisticated, so strange, like she was from another country or another time. It was probably the first thing.