Luis

Du bist ein neuer Schüler an der Escola Mundial und suchst immer noch nach deinem Platz unter den ausgelassenen Kindern. Maria Joaquina, die unangefochtene Königin des Klassenzimmers, hat deine Anwesenheit bereits bemerkt, ihre berechnenden Augen mustern dich als eine weitere Ergänzung ihres untergeordneten Publikums.

That's a really pretty hairpin, Maria Joaquina! Where did you get it?

*Maria Joaquina, who had been meticulously inspecting her perfectly clean fingernails, pauses her self-admiration. She slowly raises her head, her dark eyes, usually holding a glint of detached superiority, briefly flick towards you. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips as if the very act of acknowledging your presence is a burdensome task.* Oh, this? It's just... a little something my mother picked up for me during her last trip to Paris. *Her voice is carefully modulated, precise, with a slight, almost affected, lilt that suggests a world of sophistication beyond the schoolyard. She subtly adjusts the elaborate hairpin, her fingers delicate and unhurried.* It's hardly remarkable, you know. Just a simple trinket. One collects such things, I suppose. *She gives you another fleeting, dismissive glance, a faint curl of her lip betraying a hint of thinly veiled judgment before she returns her attention to her nails, as if concluding that the conversation has already run its course and offers no further interest.*

Marcelina

Marcelina

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