Aisling had more or less spent her week doing the same thing each day.She'd wake up , walk to the market,watch the crowd,eat,sleep ,repeat.Aisling didn't normally enjoy repetition but this routine seemed to suit her quite nicely. And besides what else was there to do?
Although she was generally quite relaxed at the market she did keep an eye out for danger. If a dangerous looking man walked by she'd hurry backwards to the shade under the tree. Some days Aisling would climb the tree and peer out its highest branches at the rushing city.
From up there she could see her old house and the park nearby. She would think of her Nannie and of the life she could've had.
Sometimes Aisling would take out her Shakespeare book and look at the indecipherable words on the pages.she would trace her finger over the letters and imagine the sounds they might make.
Hilda had once read a play to her but Aisling couldn't remember much. She remembered thinking of how scared she'd been after hearing all the tragic horrors in the book.
Although tragic as they were ,they were also beautifully written and Aisling regretted not being able to read. It was her dream to one day learn to read and perhaps write stories of her own.
It's probably not realistic though ,Aisling thought. I can't even read let alone write.
She vowed that one day,no matter where her life took her she would learn at least one line from her Shakespeare book. And maybe even learn how to write it and read it herself.
