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Author: langbot
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English[en]
In any event, the slight knowledge of the layout of St. Hilda’s that I had thus gained was now to prove invaluable. I knew how to get into that building and how to get myself to a room that would give me a reasonable view of the Northern exit of the campus. I dragged the uncomprehending David along with me and left the bewildered zombies to their collective fate. We soon gained the lookout that I had wanted – with no other living or non-living persons in the building to bother us. Sanctuary from the madness outside. The student room that we chose was somewhat spartan – painted concrete block walls, a bed, a desk and chair and a small bookshelf. Its tenant had been a young woman, it seemed – probably a fresher. Why do I say that? On the wall was a poster of ‘The Partridge Family’, featuring prominently a fresh-faced David Cassidy. No-one other than a first-year girl would confess to still having a crush on that particular teenage heart-throb. That would have been so uncool. And the room was scented. I can’t say exactly what the scent was (rose oil?) but it was pleasant – and strong enough to counter the pungent smell of napalm that still hung in the air. On the bookshelf sat a few of the standard (girl) record albums of the time (Carol King, Carly Simon, Nina Simone, Helen Reddy) and, beside them, some surprisingly old teenage literature (Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, The Getting of Wisdom). On the desk sat an IBM ‘golfball’ typewriter – fairly modern (and expensive) for the time. In the typewriter sat an incomplete letter which commenced “Dear Mum and Dad” and continued in a newsy fashion for a couple of paragraphs before stopping mid-sentence. I would like to have met the young woman who had once occupied this room, a young woman who cared enough to write to her Mum and Dad. I think I would have liked her. I wondered idly if she had managed to escape on the first day – and hoped that she had.
Cornish[kw]
Yn neb kas, yth o lemmyn a bris marthus ughel an skians munys a-dro dh’aray an kollji re dhysksen ena. My a wodhya dell yllyn entra y’n drehevyans na ha, dres henna, dell yllyn drehedhes chambour may firys orth porth a-gledhbarth an kampus. My a draylyas genev Davydh, a wodhya travyth a-dro dhe byth esa ow hwarvos, ha gasa an zombis erell, meur aga sowdhan, dh’aga tenkys guntellek. Yn skon, ni re waynsa an bennoelva a vynnen – heb tus erell, byw po anvarow, y’n drehevyans dh’agan annia. Meneghi, yth esa lemmyn an muskotter yn-mes. An chambour-studhyer re dhewissen o nebes spartek – parosyow payntyes gwrys a vrykkys-gentevynn, gweli, desk ha kador, hag argh-lyvrow vyghan. Delghyas an chambour re via myrgh, dell heveli – studhyer y’n kynsa blydhen, dell grysav. Prag y lavarav henna? Yth esa glenys orth an paros displywyans ow tiskwedhes ‘An Teylu Partrydge’, hag ow figura yn chyf Davydh Kassidy, pur fresk y fisment. Nyns esa denvyth a-der myrgh y’n kynsa blydhen a amyttsa hy hara hwath an lammgolon arbennik na, meur y vri yntra’n myrghes y’n blydhynnyow war dheg. Nyns o na fella Kassidy herwydh an gis y’n tor’ na. Yth esa ethenn dhe’n chambour keffrys. Ny allav leverel yn ewn pyth o an ethenn ma (oyl ros?) mes hweg o – ha krev lowr rag kesstrivya erbynn fler napalm ow kregi hwath y’n ayr. War an argh-lyvrow, yth esa esedhys nebes a’n plasennow meurgerys yntra’n myrghes (Karol Kyng, Karli Saymon, Nina Symoen, Helen Reddi ha’n erell) ha, rybdha, nebes romansow, poran koth, rag an myrghes a’n blydhynnyow war dheg (‘Anne of Green Gables’, ‘Little Women’, ‘The Gettting of Wisdom’) War an desk, yth esa owth esedha jynn-skrifa IBM, ‘pell-golf’ y furv – arnowydh lowr (ha kostek) y’n tor’ na. Ynno, yth esa lyther a dhallathas “Mamm ha Tas ker”. Tekst an lyther a besyas dre dhew po tri rannskrifow kyns y hedhi a-dhistowgh, hanter-lavar. Da via genev ow tos erbynn an vyrgh re drigsa y’n chambour ma, myrgh a vern lowr dhe skrifa dh’y Mamm ha’y Thas. My a’s karsa, dell grysav. My a omwovynnas mar tianksa hi an kynsa dydh – govenek o dhymm hi dhe alloes gul yndella.