Language

She talks to me

Talks to us

Like we're brats

She walks in with an air of snobiness

and speak with thinly veiled vanity

The first time we met

The first time she met us

She spoke as if we had already done wrong

The words out of her mouth morphed into fingers

Pointing

Accusing

Expecting

Her eyes heavy lidded, as if looking at us completely would ruin them

Her nose was pointed upwards

As if it were broken in such a way where it was always forced to look up

Or perhaps her nose was ashamed

Too ashamed to be near her mouth

The mouth that vomited soft insults unashamedly on me

On us

When we had only just met