My father came into my freezing room. He didn't even
notice that the mirror and armchair had gone (I sold them last
month). He only had eyes for the wonderful computer
he'd bought me for Christmas.
"Do you know that you can
go on the Internet with that thing?" he asked me. "You
do know what the Internet is, don't you?"
He takes me
for a complete idiot. I must admit that I seem to lose my
composure when he's there. I started stuttering and got him
to repeat his questions.
"The Internet?"
- "Yes, you know, the web."
He was about to give me a lecture on the subject, so I
quickly said, "Yeah, of course, I use it for my studies."
I
was terrified at the
thought of him surfing the web as well and
stumbling upon my diary. No,
there's not much chance there, as he probably only uses the Internet
to buy his flight tickets and put in his orders at
the stock exchange. My father is forever in a rush. He
actually left the restaurant before we'd even
ordered a dessert, leaving me there all on my
own. "I've got an urgent meeting. Do you want some
money for a taxi?"
I
said no out of pride and because he'd given
me a computer.
It took
me an hour to cross town on foot. I feel
sick, and I don't know whether it's because I ate too much
or because I saw my father.
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