The Accent

by KatiKat


The old professor sat on the bench in the park. He was feeding the ducks in the pond and listening to the heated conversation of the two boys sitting nearby. When the Japanese one stood up and with a "Sit tight!" order (enforced with a glare) left his braided companion, the Englishman gave in to his curiosity, stood up and went over to him.

"My dear boy, your accent intrigues me," he said. "May I ask where you come from? Eastern Europe? Maybe Russia?"

The boy blinked at him owlishly with tired, red-rimmed eyes. "Daz notten assent. Daza cold!"

The professor sweatdropped.

The End