I couldn't learn to speak fluent English for 5 years - read about what I was doing to learn to speak fluently HERE - are YOU in the same situation? Throughout my entire life I’ve always wanted to speak in English fluently, but because of the way English is taught in schools, I always struggled with my spoken English. In her bag, her handheld said something incomprehensible.I’m Robby, and I’m a non-native English speaker.
“We should stay here and wait for help,” Ashiban said.
#ANOTHER WORD FOR YOU CAN TELL CRACKED#
She blinked again, and the colored shards where the window should have been resolved into cracked glass, and behind it sky, and flat ground covered in brown and green plants, here and there some white or pink. That would explain the memory gap, and the headache. The flier had crashed, and the Sovereign’s interpreter must have gotten out of his seat for some reason, at just the wrong time. “No translation available,” remarked Ashiban’s handheld, as the Sovereign reached forward to tug at Ashiban’s own safety restraints and, once those had come undone, grab Ashiban’s arm and pull. “Stupid cow,” said Ashiban’s handheld, in her bag. Spoke-it must have been the Sovereign speaking all along. Stepped into the aisle, hiking her long blue skirt. The straps parted with a click, and the Sovereign stood. In her own seat, the pink- and orange- and blue-veiled Sovereign fumbled at the safety restraints. We have to get out of here or we will also die. The high voice spoke again, and in the small bag at Ashiban’s feet her handheld said, “Disregard the dead. The Sovereign’s interpreter lay in the aisle, his head jammed up against the back of the pilot’s seat at an odd, awkward angle. She turned her head to look across the flier’s narrow aisle, wincing at the headache. Maybe the Sovereign’s interpreter hadn’t heard it. She’d forgotten to turn off the translating function on her handheld. “We have to get out of here,” said a calm, muffled voice somewhere at Ashiban’s feet. Had the flier landed, and she hadn’t noticed?Ī high, quavering voice said something, syllables that made no sense to Ashiban. Instead she saw shards of brown and green and blue. Ought to have seen blue sky through the flier’s front window past the pilot’s seat, ought to have heard the buzz of the engine. Straightened cautiously, wary of the pain flaring. What must they be thinking?Īshiban took three careful breaths. The Sovereign of Iss, hereditary high priestess of the Gidanta, sat across the aisle, silent and veiled, her interpreter beside her. Ashiban was here to prevent a war that would quite possibly end with the Gidanta slaughtering every one of Ashiban’s fellow Raksamat on the planet. This was not a time when she could afford any kind of weakness. The Gidanta had been very respectful so far, very solicitous of Ashiban’s age, but that was, she was sure, little more than the entirely natural respect for one’s elders. Oddly, she had no memory of leaning forward, and-now she thought of it-no idea when the headache had begun.
She sat curled over her lap, in her seat on the flier, eyes closed. A particularly vicious one, centered somewhere on the top of her head.
0 kommentar(er)
