18 - Maeve
The last time I went there, I was in pain, and half-conscious. However, I remembered the homely impression of the cottage, the porch with the waiting wicker chairs, the clean white door.
Now, I saw that every white surface, even the thick wooden railing posts, had been covered with letters. The pale red bricks had been sprayed with crosses and swastikas. The wide front door has been a blank surface to display more fine literature in bold black letters.
Go back to your contry, one misspelled.
I picked other samples. Parasite. Dirty Arab. Terrorist. N***er-lover.
Think about stepping into a time machine! The racist slant, especially, dated from the sixties. That told me the perpetrators might not be that young. Or that they had trained a new generation of haters. The arabopho
