Hills Like White Elephants
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Hills Like White Elephants
short story by Ernest Hemingway
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Hills Like White Elephants (ingelesa)
The hills across the valley of the Ebro were long and white. On this side there was no shade and no trees and the station was between two lines of rails in the sun. Close against the side of the station there was the warm shadow of the building and a curtain, made of strings of bamboo beads, hung across the open door into the bar, to keep out flies. (ingelesa)
‘Do you feel better?’ he asked. ‘I feel fine,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. I feel fine.’ (ingelesa)
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Hills like White Elephants