‘Wassup?’ she asked him turning around.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, V: why do you talk…’ he browsed her up and down, ‘…and dress like that?’She grinned. ‘Talk like what?’‘Your vocabulary is a little…your English…’ he was trying to find a way to say it more politely, ‘Your English; it sounds like it’s not from around here.’‘I grew up in Breechwood. Spent more than half my life there. I’m sure you’re aware of the fact that there are more blacks than whites there. The blacks there use that kind of language. I don’t know why but those are the kinds of people I was exposed ta. People like Doreen left the neighbourhood about ten, or was it eleven years ago with their word skills still intact. And as for how I dress…’ she looked down at her feet. She wiggled her toes. ‘I always feel a lot more at peace when I sho
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