MisinterpretationThere was a unicycle hanging from a metal rack, its lemon coloured wheel hovering above my head. The last thing I remembered was that party in Manhattan, somewhere in the West Village, drinking odd looking cocktails and eating walnut cookies Everything seemed vague. In New York City, an Albanian interpreter cannot help but become entangled in her clients' struggles, despite her husband's cautions. When she reluctantly agrees to work with Alfred, a