MYRA
My eyes meet her glare and I grip Larry’s hand tightly for support. She looks me up and down, sizing me with a sneer and I immediately know that she doesn’t like me.
Mmh!
What can I say about liking her?
I don’t like her too. She doesn’t like me, and I don’t like her. The word like is like respect. A two way traffic and you have forgotten who I'm.
Myra.
Someone who can be so nice and sometimes a b***h. Someone who can like someone and hate others and that’s what I instantly feel for Larry’s mother. I dislike her. Dislike is an understatement. I hate her. I don’t know her well but her attitude puts me off completely. Her glare makes me hate her.
“So who is this?” She asks sizing me with the same intense glare. I know one thing. She looks down on me. I’m dressed in a simple way a
