“Good morning, lady nun. My name Catya. What you like today?” asked the woman behind the counter, thick with an accent honed far away from here.
“Have you any ciabatta?” asked the elderly nun.
“There is none, sorry I am”
“What a shame… what a shame… is there any farmhouse loaves?”
“There is, nun” said the woman, nodding.
“Well… do you have any rolls?”
“We have, nun. You want roll too? Hungry you must be”
“Yes… yes…” the nun glanced around, and pointed to a flat bread. “May I have this please? What kind of bread is that?”
The woman put it down on the counter, “This focaccia”
“Yes, sorry, I no from here, it focachia”
“Forget it! I will go someplace else” hissed the nun, leaving insulted.
“Lady nice. Come again”