The Charm School [antikvár]

1"You are already staying in Smolensk two days, Mr. Fisher?" she asked.Gregory Fisher was no longer confused or amused by the peculiar syntax and verb tenses of English as it was spoken in this part of the world. "Yes," he replied, "I've been in Smolensk two days.""Why don't I see you when you arrive?""You were out. So I saw the policethe militia.""Yes?" She leafed through his papers on her desk, a worried look on her face, then brightened. "Ah, yes. Good. You are staying here at Tsentralnaya Hotel."Fisher regarded the Intourist representative. She was about twenty-five years old, a few years older than he. Not too bad looking. But maybe he'd been on the road too long. "Yes, I stayed at the Tsentralnaya last night."She looked at his visa. "Tourism?""Right. Tourizm."She asked, "Occupation?"Fisher had become impatient with these internal control measures. He felt as if he were making a major border crossing at each town in which he was obliged to stop. He said, "Ex-college student, currently unemployed."3