“THOSE BORN IN THE DEAF YEARS…”
…17
At the beginning of May, before the annual exams, she handed me a sheet of paper with a new cycle – this time, to Massenet’s music. Learn it, she said. Meanwhile, she began dance rehearsals. No-one but the participants themselves knew about them, of course, as usual. I found out by chance: stumbled upon their rehearsal. It happened like this. During the last class, F. called me into the corridor; opened the classroom door a crack, apologised, sought me with her eyes. I got up, went out. Tomorrow, 9 am, English delegation, she said. Alert everyone. Iron the costumes today. The costumes are stored in the cupboard in her study. Stuffed in any old how after the show. Nowhere to hang them, taking them home’s not an option: delegations arrive out of the blue
