Alfonzo

Rebecca Bourke

There was a smudge on the glass case. She pulled her sleeve up over her small hand to wipe it, but it was on the inside. From the corner she heard a security guard tut. She pulled the hand away and smiled apologetically, then went back to contemplating the sad down-turned eyes of the bear.
Did he miss his owner?
It said on the little card by his side that he’d been commissioned by the Grand Duke George Mikhailovich of Russia for his daughter in 1908 and bought at auction in 1989 for £12,800.
“Do you think he’s lonely?” she asked her mother, gripping her hand.
“Lonely? Don’t be silly!” she answered, but seeing the sincere and worried expression of her daughter she added:
“How could he be lonely in a museum filled with bears?”
The little girl and her family left at closing time, and she had been so like his Xenia.

Había una mancha en la vitrina. Arrastró la manga sobre su pequeña mano para borrarla, pero estaba por dentro. Desde el rincón oyó al guardia de seguridad chasquear la lengua. Quito la mano y sonrió, disculpándose, entonces volvió a contemplar los tristes ojos caídos del oso de peluche.
¿Echaría de menos a su dueña?
Se ponía en el cartoncito a su lado que el gran duque de Rusia Jorge Mijailovich lo había encargado para su hija en 1908 y en 1989 el museo lo compró por £12,800.
“¿Piensas que se siente solo?” le preguntó a su madre, agarrando su mano.
“¿Solo? ¡No seas tonta!” le respondió, pero cuando vio la expresión sincera y preocupada de su hija añadió:
“¿Cómo podría sentirse solo en un museo lleno de osos?”
La pequeña y su familia se fueron a la hora de cierre, y ella había sido tan parecida a su Xenia.

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Any differences between the two texts are intentional, but other alternatives welcome. Any grammar, punctuation or spelling mistakes are certainly not intentional and all corrections even more welcome.

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