THE MASTER'S WORD AND BEYOND

The master, with his long, white beard and his frameless spectacles, gave the manuscript back to his apprentice writer. A smile turned up in his face while saying:

"You've improved your writing amazingly, congratulations".

"Did I make you drool with the poem, master?", the apprentice dared to ask to the master.

"Well, actually this poem of you was outstanding", recognised the master. "I was fascinated, but don't express it in such a vulgar way, will you? Never say again I've drooled with a poem of yours."

The apprentice didn't say anything else. She just picked the manuscript up and turned round holding the poem with her left hand, some centimetres away from her body, because the manuscript was actually full of the master's drool, and it was not metaphoric at all, but perfectly fresh... and so vulgar.

Frantz Ferentz, 2013