clubbing

She came to see me from her hometown by passenger train. We'd already been together for quite a while, over a year, I think, but it doesn't really matter. 5:52 p.m., Śródmieście Station, I pick her up, smile, kiss, etc. Directions: subway, we're going to my place. I'm a romantic, well, I definitely was, so it's a shock for her when we enter the cottage. In winter, at 7 p.m., it's already dark, so she walked in and was blown away. The cottage is covered in roses, the whole room is pink, the floor, the bed, everything is full of flowers, plus candles everywhere, just wow, and Erykah Badu in the background, because everyone knows Badu is the best for sex. And it goes on like this: soul music in the background, wine in our hands, we drink, talk, embrace, and finally have quick sex. The evening promised to be great, or at least that's how it started. We didn't have much time because we had to be at the rotunda by 9 p.m., obviously, a Friday party was planned. Another subway, a lineup with a guy who was already waiting for us. Directions: Monopoly, supplies, double-zero sevens, and we head to the square where they were already waiting for us. Hey, hey, everyone, and we're drinking, standard... In an hour and a half, my friend and I have sorted out our accessories and ordered a taxi; it's time to start clubbing!

A familiar student club is in front of us, the familiar line to get in, the familiar waiting room, and well-known brands of beer in our hands. At this point, I should have realized that not everything is as good as we thought it would be. There are problems getting in, because we're supposed to pay, and why should we? We're students, after all! We have IDs, damn it! We explain that the line was long and that we were already here before 10 p.m., that we deserve free entry, and what does that even mean, but it's no use, it's pointless, we have no chance. We're desperate, so we act accordingly, so the guy says he'd like to speak with the club manager. Okay, come on in, I didn't know such an innocent text would work so quickly on security.

It's a mess inside, few people, not much of anything at all. We realize we might not have enough alcohol in our bloodstream, so we quickly go to the bar, ask for six shots of tequila, then another six, and I don't know how much there was, and I don't know if anyone cares. After drinking, we're supposed to take a piss and hit the dance floor, which we did. We dance, and it turns out there's just the right amount of alcohol, but something's still missing. We decide the atmosphere's lacking, that it's time to do something about it. It's hay, it's time to go somewhere else. Some girls are also approaching me, some old friends. Why the hell should I recognize them all right away? You can't see I'm drinking! You can't see I'm having fun! Getting out wasn't so easy because something was wrong with my jacket in the cloakroom, or rather with the cash register. So I try to help, I do. I didn't help, quite the opposite, I think I broke it because it got stuck, and again, problems. Oh well, I'll wait outside. And so I wait, and I decide I'll go get them because they're taking a while to come out. And of course, as if it could have been any other way, there's an immediate scandal with security because they won't let me in, because I left and now I'm not coming back in, and kiss your ass. That's it. A taxi was waiting for us, so I got in. Remember, if the party starts off well, it can get worse; there's no rule that it'll be okay all the time.

We get off at another well-known club, this time known for its hip-hop, because it's downtown, and that 50s on Fridays are five. We go in, and the security looks at me strangely today, because right from the start, they're asking if I can handle it. I say I can handle it, and he says, "Okay, come on in." Man, it's hot, it's hot! My first thoughts when I saw what was going on here: delicious old-school music, tons of guys and girls having a blast on the dance floor, and it was just absolutely amazing. After seeing this, I knew this was the place for tonight. Let's dance, let's dance to hip-hop! Let's have fun!

My head is heavy, the world slows down, the dance moves half as fast against my head, something's not right, I think. Does this make sense? Where's the sense? Oh, not really me, I'm thinking too much, I'm not having enough fun. Footsteps carry me to the bar, fifty milliliters please, they give me, plus orange juice. I sat down, staring at the glass, at how it sways in my hand. A muddy mess. Will you drink with us? Strange teenagers are waking me up. I'll drink. Cheers!

Time to get back to the dance floor, time to find the girl, have fun with her. She didn't come here for me to ignore her. Not to pour alcohol into myself, it's enough that she's studying somewhere. I get there, a guy dances with her, hugs her. I have the juice in my hand, no, I don't have it anymore, the juice is pouring down the guy's head. He looks at me in surprise, no longer looks, I see a fist, a target – me, an attack is coming!

You see, it's like this: I'm drunk, he's probably drunk too, and you don't feel any pain. It's a funny situation. I once played a game on my Plyak – boxing. You see fists flying, but you don't feel anything. That's exactly what happened, holy shit! Lewis vs. Gołota! My pumpkin's response to the fist was, fajting first class! I remember lying in the glass and them, the security guards, were separating us, throwing me on the couch. Totally drunk, I totally don't understand how they ask for my name. If I don't understand, I tell them to piss off. That was the wrong answer, I didn't like it, so I had a free ride on the floor of a well-known Warsaw club, known for its hip-hop, its location in the city center, and the fact that 50 on Fridays is a 50. Kick me out of the club! I didn't have time to lie down because he was already waiting. It turned out he was black and six feet tall. I should add that I'm frail and not six feet tall. The girl is crying, I'm pretending to be tough. Luckily, I was only pretending for a moment, and security saved me, thank you for that!

They ask if I should call the police. I've sobered up, so I say no, that it's my fault, and that I'm actually sorry. The security men liked my attitude, and they started giving me advice: if they were me, they'd call a taxi because I'm not going to get out of here alive. Luckily, there are taxis waiting outside the clubs, and luckily I didn't spend my last tenner. I got into the Mercedes with the girl and said good evening. I explained the situation to the taxi driver: I have ten, take us to the bus stop where my beloved nightclub is. He said, "Okay."

That's right, not okay, because he dropped us off at the wrong place, at a different stop. "Don't panic," I told the girl, "we'll definitely get there, it's okay. Just change at the right place, it has to work!" It didn't work out, we reached the bus depot; we can't get back to the cottage in three hours at the earliest." It's cold because it's December, we're starting to freeze.

What should we do? What should we do? Various thoughts swirled in my head. There's a snowstorm overhead, we'll feel it soon. Don't worry, the snowstorm isn't anything, the worst part was the wind, minus temperatures plus the wind. I've had better times. The night doesn't always end as it begins, I thought. There were still dogs, an old Polonez, what did I have to lose? I approached them and said I wasn't from Warsaw, that I didn't know the city, that I only knew where to stay, but how to get there, we were lost! Please help, give me a lift? They looked at me with a sneer. One scratched his beard, the other sighed and said, "Well, we can't, but wait, we'll take a ride and come back, see what we can do." They left.

The girl started panicking, telling me, "They won't come back, they won't come back," and repeating this for several minutes. I tried to comfort her; there was nothing else I could do. It was getting colder and colder, we slowly started to feel like we were in Siberia. We couldn't last much longer, so I thought, we had to do something. I didn't have time to do anything because the policemen arrived and stood next to us: "Did you want a ride?" Yes, we did. Get in.

We got in, it was a nice atmosphere, like in movies from the communist era. The men were nice, it was a shock, they kept talking about where you were from, etc. So I had to improvise, and it worked until they shone a flashlight directly in my eyes. "Were you fighting?!?" That's their question, sudden silence, consternation. I was in shock, I didn't know what to say, thinking, man, thinking, you have to get out of this somehow, you don't need a sobering-up station and four-eight. I'm in! I've only just realized I have a busted nose and a black eye. How could I have forgotten that???

You know, we came to Warsaw and wanted to see how people party, so we went to a club. And you know, we were dancing, having fun, and at one point I got punched, I don't even know why! They looked at each other, and I could tell they were thinking hard. Still silence, only the sound of the Polonez's engine. Finally, one of them spoke up: "You see, it's such a shitty place here." He smiled and patted me on the shoulder

The Diary of Zuzanna S.

March 1st.

Everyone has many memories. Some they want to remember and some they'd rather forget. I want to write in this diary my story, which has brought me much pain and even more happiness.

My name is Zuzanna S. And this is my story...

March 2nd

. "Oh no, he's done it again. I've had enough. Łukasz! Why are you eating my sandwiches again?" I shouted, now seriously angry.

"Oh, I thought they were mine," said Łukasz. Łukasz is my colleague from work. He's tall, brunette, very handsome. Those thin glasses on his shapely nose add a lot to his charm. He's very intelligent, but you have to be patient with him because he's an individualist and has a somewhat difficult personality. We've been friends for three years, but in situations like this, I'm really surprised...

"You never have your own," I said.

"That's not true. I do sometimes," he said casually, and unable to resist, he sank his teeth into the tasty sandwich.

"Łukasz, damn it! It's my sandwich!" "I'm sorry ," I said, and like a lioness protecting her cubs, I rushed to save my sandwich.

"Ms. Susanna," I heard a voice coming from the doorway, just as I reached out the window, holding Łukasz's glasses and vowing to throw them away if he didn't give me mine.

That voice belonged to my boss... Terrified, I looked at him and immediately hid Łukasz's glasses behind me. It didn't make sense anyway, but people do strange things in moments of fear.

"Come see me," the boss said firmly, and left.

Łukasz looked at me sympathetically, still holding my sandwich. I was terrified; his voice was firm and didn't bode well.

"He'll probably drag me through the mud now," I thought, "and then he'll tell me that such things can't happen in his company because only serious people work here." After a moment of silence, he'll say, "We have to say goodbye, Mrs. Susanna," and what will I do then?

When we entered the office, the boss motioned me to a chair and sat down opposite me. He looked at me for a moment, picked up a pen, tapped it on the desk, and looked at me again.

"Don't panic, stay calm...everything will be fine...Oh my God, why is he looking like that? I can already see the situation. I'll call my mom tonight and say, 'Mom, I just lost my job at that newspaper that everyone knows, that has a huge reputation, and that I've been trying to get for over a year,' and my mom will say, 'Child, what a shame, but honestly, I knew you'd figure something out. Why do you have to be so scatterbrained, why do you always...blah, blah, blah.'"

At that moment, the boss tapped his pen louder on the desk, straightened up, then placed his hands on the desk and began,

"Ms. Zuzanna, why did you want to throw your friend's glasses out the window?" he asked.

"Because he took my sandwiches," I replied seriously, and immediately realized how stupid I was.

"He took your sandwiches, I see," the boss's voice said, a hint of amusement. "Are you taking anything else?" he asked.

"No, just the sandwiches," I replied, and I felt myself getting very small. I'm not helping myself at all. Instead of talking seriously to the boss and salvaging my situation, I'm making a fool of myself. Hmm... and by the way, the boss has quite beautiful eyes. When I noticed this, I really started to get nervous.

"If it's just about the sandwiches, maybe you were too harsh on him, huh?" he smiled.

"He does it every day," I replied, looking at the floor.

"Ms. Zuzanna, in my company, such situations can't happen, we only have adults, responsible, and serious people working here..."

Oh, I forgot about "responsible," I thought, and then said aloud:

"That's why we have to say goodbye, Mrs. Zuzanna.

" "Excuse me?

" "You want to fire me, right?

" "No way!" I just wanted to make a deal with you: Mrs. Kasia would buy Mr. Łukasz sandwiches every morning, and you wouldn't take your colleague's glasses.

I looked at him, surprised, and with a little indignation, I noticed that my boss was sitting in his chair, in a "lounge" position—legs on legs, hands on the backrest. He was looking at me with those pretty eyes of his and smiling mockingly. He was mocking me; the whole situation probably seemed childish to him. I started stammering,

"I'm sure this whole situation is funny to you, but...

" "No, not at all, I'm taking this quite seriously."

And that smile again. God help me, how can I get out of this without losing face?"

"But Łukasz took my sandwiches every day, and it really irritated me. He took them even when I asked him not to." IDIOT, stop talking about sandwiches, now get out of this conversation, hmm... intelligent ending, but how..." "I'm so sorry, sir, it won't happen again. Please forgive me, but I can't afford to have my things taken from me, and that's why..." Speak intelligently, you fake woman. "I'm sorry again, that was the first and last time." Great, contrition, lowered gaze, you could yawn discreetly, making your eyes look tearful, but the boss might notice the yawn, so a sad look will suffice.

The boss was still sitting in his "cool" position with that smile of his, but now it wasn't a mocking smile, but a smile of genuine amusement.

- Okay, Mrs. Zuzanna - he said, changing the "cool guy" position into the "boss" position, i.e. legs evenly and hands on the desk - end of story, Mr. Łukasz will get sandwiches in the morning, and your sandwiches will be safe.

"Oh my God, I didn't lose my job," I thought with joy. "I'll call my mom today and say, 'Mom, I'm still working at that newspaper that everyone knows... blah, blah, blah,' and she'll reply, 'I always believed in you, daughter, but... blah, blah, blah.'"

"Ms. Zuzanna, I want you to take over the fashion section of our magazine.

" "Oh no! Not only am I still working at this company, but I'm also getting promoted, unbelievable," I thought, and then stammered loudly, "How so?...mm, I mean...mm, I was working...that's, I don't know if...oh my God...

" "Let me tell you the details.

" "Yes, please.

" "Ms. Agata is leaving us, do you know about it?

" "Yes, I know, it's a great loss.

" "Well, not as great as it might seem. I want you to take her place.

" "Me?" I couldn't believe it. I've been interested in fashion for a long time, and working in the fashion section is like a dream come true."

"Yes, ma'am. You're young, you have excellent taste, you dress well, you're lively, cheerful, and temperamental. That's exactly the kind of person we need for this position." The longer he spoke, the bigger the smile spread across my face. "What do you think?

" "Me? Hmm, yes, of course I do. There's no one else in this room except you and me, he he. I'm very pleased that you think so of me, and that you've considered me. Of course, I agree, and I'll do my best to make you happy with me." I must admit, my answer was good, quite efficient, and intelligent.

"I'm very happy. When can you start?

" "Even right away, but... if I can, tomorrow, because I need to familiarize myself with fashion and other things, you know." I stood up and smiled that seductive smile of mine, which clearly had an effect on my boss, because he shook my hand firmly and looked me in the eye for a long time.

I left my boss's office surprised, happy, pleasantly flattered by his praise, more confident, and with a promotion!

I ran to tell everyone about it; maybe I'd manage to snag at least one more sandwich of my own.

March 4th

. I walked home, tired after a long day at work. My sandwiches were safe now, because indeed, Mrs. Kasia, our secretary, had bought sandwiches for Łukasz yesterday and today. Tytus, my Great Dane, my roommate, greeted me at the door. I call him that because he takes up almost as much space in our house as I do.

I dumped the groceries on the kitchen table and poured a huge package of dog food into the dog's large bowl.

"That's for starters, I'll make you something special in a moment." The dog raised his head and looked at me with eyes full of love. "Tytus, do you know what happened to me?" – I said to him, the dog raised his head again, as if waiting for what I would tell him – the day before yesterday I got a promotion, and today I got a compliment from the boss – I said and stroked Tytus's nose – nice, huh?

I made myself a cup of coffee, put on my pink pig-head slippers, and stretched out on the couch.

I started thinking about work and the promotion. Until then, I hadn't really considered why my boss had chosen me, but I was incredibly flattered. This opened up a brighter future for me—a more interesting job, a higher salary, better clothes—hmm, this looks promising.

With a satisfied smile, I went to the bathroom to apply a clay mask. These masks are a really good thing; even if they don't help, it's still good to know that you're doing something to look good.

With the mask on, I entered the room and wanted to lie down on the couch, but it was already occupied, so I settled comfortably on the soft carpet in front of it. I often wonder if I'm making a mistake by giving in to Tytus. I used to, yes, push him off the bed when I wanted to lie down, but he didn't weigh 75 kilos back then. I stopped arguing with him long ago, because any kind of persuasion wouldn't work, and carrying the dog was out of the question. Fortunately, this was the only problem I had. Tytus is a very intelligent dog, kind, affectionate, and very attached to me. I got him four years ago from a cousin whose parents forbade him from having a dog in the house. I immediately fell in love with this awkward little guy and didn't even ask what breed he was. I only realized this when Tytus's head reached my hip, and I'm not a short person.

However, we lived very comfortably. I inherited a three-room apartment from my grandmother. I turned one room into my bedroom (I'd always dreamed of having my own bedroom). The other room had a sofa, a television, a huge bookcase, and a chest of drawers, and the smallest room was occupied by Tytus and my wardrobe. I have no complaints about lack of space; I live on the ground floor and have a small garden under the balcony, so it's no problem for Tytus to go outside whenever he wanted. I love this dog and wouldn't get rid of him for anything in the world; I'd sooner look for a bigger apartment. More than once, friends offered to take Tytus in because they had a house in the country, or something else. But they didn't consider that the bond between me and this enormous dog was so strong that wherever he went, he wouldn't be happy, he'd miss him terribly, and he'd probably die of grief. Not to mention myself, I'd shed a sea of ​​tears and fall into a depression. That's why I flatly refused and rejected all such offers.

I looked at the dog lying on the couch, and he lifted his enormous head as if to ask, "What's wrong?" I pressed my face tightly to his head and kissed him on the nose. Unfortunately, I forgot that I was wearing a clay mask, and now Tytus was wearing one too. I laughed and immediately went to the bathroom for a tissue to wipe his nose when the doorbell rang.

"Who's he carrying?" I asked myself, and looked in horror at the mirror. "Jesus, a mask!" and I didn't know what to do first.

"Zuza, it's me, Łukasz. You don't have to wash off what's on your face, I already saw it through the window," a voice said from behind the door.

Embarrassed, I opened the door. Łukasz came in and looked at my face with a smile.

"We didn't all pool our resources," he said, taking off his shoes, "to buy you blinds for your birthday so you wouldn't even use them."

I looked at the window, terrified. In fact, I'd had new blinds for a few months and hadn't yet gotten used to them. I ran to the window and immediately closed them all.

"You live on the ground floor, girl. When you walk down the street, you can see everything you have in the house," Łukasz said, sitting down in an armchair.

"Okay," I smiled. "They're already closed, I have to get used to them.

" "Zuza, what's that mask you're wearing?" he asked, looking strangely at Tytus.

"Cleansing, for blackheads and pimples. What?

" "Does Tytus also have problems with blackheads?" Łukasz asked seriously.

I'd forgotten I'd messed up Tytus!

"No," I replied, "Tytus doesn't have problems with blackheads, he's just keeping me company.

" "Oh...

" "Coffee?" I asked my friend, who had settled comfortably in an armchair.

"Yes, please.

" "White coffee with sugar?

" "Do you remember correctly.

" "Did something happen?" I asked, sitting down next to Łukasz.

"No, why are you asking?

" "Because you haven't visited me in a while.

" "Come on, nothing happened. Because I haven't visited you in a while, I decided to come.

" "Łukasz...

" "Really, why do you think I should come to you when I need something?

" "Łukasz, I know you...

" "You know what, you offended me." Łukasz took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

"Łukasz...

" "What?

" "Tell me what's going on.

" "About Kaśka," he said, lowering his head.

"I knew it—I won't say I wasn't proud of myself. I've known this man for three years, and sometimes I feel like I know him better than he knows himself." I handed him the coffee and, with a look, encouraged him to tell me what was bothering him.

"She's cheating on me...

" "Oh my God," I threw myself on the couch.

"What?

" "Same again." I covered my eyes with my hand. I was tired of Łukasz's constant suspicions. He's a really nice guy, but terribly jealous and suspicious, and such behavior becomes very tiring in the long run.

"When I feel it," he said in a pathetic tone.

"Stop it! Because one day you'll go too far with these suspicions, and no one will believe you.

" "But Zuzia..."

"No buts. You keep saying the same thing, and I know, I'm sure, that she's not cheating on you...

" "But...

" "I'm saying okay?

" "Okay...

" "A relationship has to be based on trust. You've been together for a few months, and you still suspect her of cheating. Why can't you finally believe that you're a nice guy and that a woman who's with you doesn't need other men?"

"She goes out so often," Łukasz said sadly, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Because she has her own interests, her own things. She can't sit by your side all the time, petting your head, and telling you how much she adores you." I felt sorry for him, but at the same time, he was annoying me with his unfounded suspicions.

"Maybe you're right," Łukasz looked at me with a slight smile. "After all, I have my own things too, which I devote a lot of time to.

" "You see. You're tormenting yourself unnecessarily. Just be happy.

" "You know what?" I sometimes think about it, you always give such great advice, but I'm curious why you haven't found a man yet and aren't happy. You're not lacking anything, after all," Łukasz gave me a searching look.

"Thanks," I said, and somehow the urge to laugh, to give advice, or to talk about relationships and love in general vanished.

"What's the matter?" Łukasz looked me in the eye.

"Well, I still have time, I'm young, and besides, I'm fine the way I am," I always said when someone asked me why I was single. But the truth was, I didn't really believe it myself. Maybe I was single out of convenience, or maybe because I hadn't met a guy I wanted to be in a serious relationship with yet. Despite appearances, I thought about it often. I'm 27, I've lived alone for four years, and I go to all the parties alone. I sometimes meet guys, go on dates, but... it's not what I expect. I'd like to have someone I could tell over breakfast what I'm doing today, someone I could make dinner for, who wouldn't laugh at my pig-head slippers, who wouldn't grimace at the sight of me with a clay mask on. I'd like to finally fall in love...

- Zuzia!

- Yes?

- What are you thinking about?

- Just saying...

- Probably about some handsome man you have your eye on, huh?

- There isn't one - I wanted to burst into tears - I'm 27, and I don't even have a guy in mind - my despair was immense, and Łukasz noticed.

- Don't cry - he said. -

I'm not crying.

- But you'll be soon.

- How do you know?

- Because your chin is already trembling.

"Because I'm unhappy!" I screamed so loudly and so desperately that it even touched my dog. Tytus came out of the room, came over to me, and placed his big head on my lap, looking at me with those wise eyes of his. My heart sank even lower, and I hugged the dog tightly. I'm so bad that even the dog feels sorry for me.

Łukasz, seeing this situation, patted me on the shoulder and said,

"I see I have to act because things are bad for you. Do you have any plans for the evening?

" "No."

"It's Friday, and you don't have any plans for the evening? Things are really bad for you.

" "Łukasz, don't bring me down!

" "Oh, Jesus, it's good you have me," Łukasz said, clearly in a good mood. "Get dressed, we're going out.

" "Where?

" "To the party, I won't let you spend Friday night alone. Come on, come on, I'll give you 30 minutes.

" "Okay," I said. "Whatever, it's better than sitting at home with a bag of chips in front of the TV." I'm not kidding...this is how I spend my weekend evenings...scary, right?

We went to "our" club.

"Zuzka, nice to see you," Anka said, running up to me and kissing my cheek.

She was already quite tipsy. The oldest of our group, but probably the wildest. She was 31, still showing off her long, shapely legs in sexy miniskirts, alluring with a plunging neckline, but it was her long, auburn hair that caught the eye the most. At parties, she was the queen of the dance floor. She was also the person you could go to with any problem, and by turning everything into a joke, she lightened the mood and made you feel lighter.

"You look amazing," Anka said, looking at me intently.

I'm not sure I looked amazing, but it wasn't that bad...or so I thought. Brown trousers, a green blouse that exposed the shoulders, a deep neckline, gathered under the bust and falling slightly on the stomach, and lace around the neckline—my new purchase—was incredibly expensive, but I had to celebrate my promotion somehow.

"Thanks," I replied to Anka in response to her compliment.

"You just forgot something," Anka said.

"What?" I looked at myself in surprise.

"Breasts!!!" Anka exclaimed, laughing loudly.

"Oh yes, I decided to leave them at home today," I said with a smile. I'd gotten used to Anka's teasing about my small bust. She had nothing to be ashamed of. Anka's D cup was downright enormous compared to my paltry 75B. But oh well, not everyone is so generously endowed.

"Come join us," Jarek, Anka's husband, called out, waving at them.

There were already a lot of people sitting at the table. I enjoyed these gatherings. Everyone I work with was there. The fact that we were able to become friends made work a pleasure for us, because we all understood each other well and had a great affection for each other.

Łukasz sat next to his Kasia, hugged her, and must have whispered something lewd in her ear because she giggled and kissed him hungrily.

I looked at them with a smile. The fact that I had no one hurt me deeply, but I couldn't envy the happiness of my loved ones; I could rejoice for them. It was probably human instincts like these that kept me from going crazy.

"Hey Zuza," Jarek shouted, sitting down next to me, "I heard about your promotion.

" "The boss knew what he was doing; I'm the best," I said, lifting my head and smiling proudly.

"And very humble," Jarek added. We both laughed. "Oh, yes, speaking of our boss... look..." He nodded discreetly towards the table to the right.

"Oh Jesus," I whispered and laughed. "At the table Jarek indicated, the boss was sitting with a group of colleagues, probably quite tipsy, because he was talking and laughing so loudly." "Oh, come on, and I thought he'd grown into his suit," I said to Jarek.

The boss was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. He looked incredibly sexy in that outfit. I watched him explain something to his colleagues and laugh. Oh my God, what was happening to me? I couldn't stop looking at the man.

"Oh no, my dear," I thought to myself, "that's your boss, you can't do that... hmm, but he has a nice smile, BOSS, remember!!!... he doesn't have his hair done, like he usually does at work, he's better off like that." Hello, Earth, this is your employer, you earn your bread there, hmm... quite a nice employer, but that's it... oh my, he looked at me, waved, hello, hello... I hope he didn't see me staring at him – I immediately looked away.

"He almost caught you," I heard Łukasz's voice next to me.

"What?" I asked, pretending I didn't know what he was talking about.

"Don't pretend, you were staring at him so hard I'd think you liked him." Łukasz was smiling a little mockingly. "

You're stupid," I said curtly.

"Maybe stupid, but not blind – maybe ask the boss to come over, huh?" "Łukasz, stop it, okay?" "Admit it." "To what? " "To what?" "Okay." "What,

okay?" "Well, if 'what, okay' is what you're telling me to admit,

so I'll admit it. " "You admit it?" "Yes! " "You like it. " "Okay." "Okay! " "Okay!" "Okay ." "Okay." "Okay." "Okay." "Okay. " "Okay." "Okay." "Okay. " "Okay. " "Okay." "Okay!" ... I'd have to be blind not to notice a guy like that, but he's my boss. End of story. - So what, your boss? - End of story.

Okay, if you want, but I still think...

" "How's Kasia?" I changed the subject.

"Great, everything's fine. I just need to try to change things up a bit and it'll be okay," Łukasz replied, quickly forgetting what we'd been talking about earlier.

"Well, I'm glad, I told you. You look good together," I said, looking at my beaming friend. "I'm going to get you a drink," I said.

"I'll buy you one, sit down," Łukasz offered.

"No thanks, I'd feel guilty for tearing you away from your beloved. Go to her." Łukasz had been standing in front of me the whole time. "Go ahead!

" "You're a sweetheart, you know?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"I know," I replied, and deftly extricated myself from his embrace.

After making my way through the dancing crowd, I stood in front of the bar. A man was talking to the bartender, and I eyed him appreciatively. A slim, shapely, and muscular figure, slightly disheveled hair, but the mess only added to the charm of this wonderful phenomenon.

"He probably has a wife, or at least a fiancée," I thought ruefully. "It's impossible for a guy like that to be alone. Hmm, maybe I'll go over and chat; what's the harm? I'm alone anyway, and if I'm shy about it, I'll be lonely for the rest of my life.

" "Oh! Good evening!" The sexy man turned around before I could approach him. I recognized him as my boss...

I was so surprised and simultaneously terrified by this sudden greeting that I let out a strange gasp, then covered my mouth with my hand, feeling strangely foolish.

"Nice to see you too," he said, a little surprised. "Well, that gasp was probably a response to my greeting, right?" He smiled.

"Yes, that gasp was a sign of joy. I was happy to see you," I replied with a smile.

"And how are the preparations for your new position going?" he asked.

"In progress," I replied with a smile. "Thank you again for..."

"Ms. Zuzanna, let's not talk about work on Friday evening, okay?"

"Okay, but you started this conversation, I was just trying to be nice," I replied, taking a long sip of my drink.

My boss looked at me, surprised, but also amused by my answer. I thought so, because he was smiling so nicely.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

"Thank you, I just bought one." His question made me nervous. Why? I don't know, I'm like that when I lose my confidence, when someone proves bolder than me, I start to get nervous and immediately have trouble putting together a coherent sentence.

"Can I buy you another one?

" "Hmm, I don't know.

" "Why?

" "Because I don't know if I'll feel like having another one."

"Mhm, I understand. If you feel like having another one, you'll tell me, okay?

" "Okay, but this might be a little weird." I felt the drink starting to warm me up. The conversation with the boss had made me drink faster than usual, I just prayed I wouldn't start talking nonsense, as I often do after drinking. "He has beautiful eyes," I thought, very beautiful... stop... boss, boss, boss!"

"Why strange?" he asked.

"I'm not going to run to you when I run out of drink.

" "But you won't have to call me," he said, leaning in so his face was a few centimeters from mine. "If you'll let me, I'd like to keep you company," he said, and with a mischievous smile, he watched as I sheepishly tried to fish an olive out of my martini.

Silence fell... If I agree to him accompany me, I'll get drunk and talk nonsense and won't be able to look him in the face later, and if I refuse... what if I refuse?" I'm going to regret this. I finally found a guy I like, someone who caught my eye, as Łukasz said, but there was another problem... this guy is my boss.

"What do you think?" My boss looked at me expectantly.

"I don't know," I replied.

"You don't want to?" Why did I get the feeling there was regret in his voice? Maybe I was just imagining it.

"No, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that this is a bit embarrassing for me," I finally blurted out. They say alcohol gives you courage. At that moment, I felt like I could tell him so much, too much.

"Why embarrassing?" He leaned against the bar, looking so alluring... oh God. "Why

, why? You're my boss.

" "You can forget about it for the weekend."

"It's not that easy."

"Don't you see me as a human being? I am one, after all."

"I know you're a human being, but in your everyday life you're my boss, I earn my living with you, and that's a bit...

" "Awkward?

" "Degrading." I think that's what I really meant. I felt defenseless, poor, small around him...

" "Ms. Zuzanna, what are you saying? Why degrading?" He was truly outraged!

"Try to understand me," I said and sat down on a high stool at the bar. He did the same, looking at me seriously. "You're my superior, as they say now, you give me a job, thanks to you I have money to live on, that means you're above me, I'm dependent on you, I'm just your employee, someone who does some work for you, I do what you tell me...

" "You're not just any employee, and you're not doing "any" work, what you do is very important to my company and to me."

"I understand, and I'm glad you say that, but still...

" "I'm still the boss, right?

" "Yes! You're still my boss." I didn't know how to explain it anymore. Just bringing it up was embarrassing. For me, a boss was always a boss. I'd never considered any closer contact. I can't fully explain it. I can't tell this handsome man standing before me that I feel uncomfortable around him.

"Can I change it somehow?" he asked in a lower voice, and I felt my face heat up. God... what was happening to me then? I couldn't look at him, and I so desperately wanted to look into those black eyes again...

"No, you can't change it, I'm sorry," I said, getting up, and walking away. Why did I do that? I'm not entirely sure; I thought I was afraid the conversation would take a turn for the worse and our working relationship would deteriorate. I really like this job and don't want to lose it, and a bad relationship with my boss could be grounds for dismissal. But in reality, as I sat down at the table and lit a cigarette, it occurred to me that the reason was my fear that during a longer conversation, he'd get to know me better, realize I wasn't interesting, regret entrusting me with such a good position, and... he wouldn't look at me that way anymore. I hate these damn insecurities; they always make my life difficult.

"Besides, I'll say it again for the hundredth time, he's my boss... and contact with the boss should be limited to professional matters. End of story.

March 7th.

This morning was difficult. On Saturday, my mom came to visit me with her Labrador retriever, Sisi, with whom my Tytus is madly in love. My dad couldn't come because he was working, so my mom stayed with me all weekend. We had long conversations. I have great conversations with my mom; she's a very intelligent woman who's been through a lot in her life, but she's never lost her spirit." Even when my dad was cheating on her, it was hard for her, I know because she told me about it, but she never lost hope that everything would work out. She didn't throw tantrums, she didn't threaten my father with divorce, she waited. And when he came to his senses and came to her, she forgave him, and from then on, he began to adore her, even more than when he proposed. My mom always says, "I suffered, but it was worth it." I want to be like my mom in the future.

The weekend was a great success, but when Mom left yesterday, along with Sisi, Tytus was so distraught that he howled all night long, missing his friend. My pleas and begging were to no avail; the neighbors were banging on the walls and the floor, and I couldn't do anything to quiet the smitten dog. At four in the morning, Tytus suddenly fell silent and went to sleep, and I had to get up at five-thirty, so an hour and a half of sleep left me unconscious at work today. I mixed up documents in my folders, made countless mistakes in the articles I was writing, and couldn't distinguish the colors of clothes in the photos presented on the slides the company we work with sent.

Anka also works in the fashion department. Seeing what was happening to me, she helped me as much as she could, dear Anula. What would I do without her?

"How's work going?" I heard a voice behind me that paralyzed me. It was my boss.

I turned around, thinking he was talking to me, but they spoke to Natalia, who was working on a new fashion ad. He looked his usual workday: an elegant, expensive suit, a perfectly fitted shirt. I wondered who chose his shirts and ties like that, his wife, his girlfriend, or maybe...what did I care anyway?

I busied myself with my work; I didn't want him to think I was doing nothing. I looked up at him again, and he looked back at me. I'd often wondered what it would be like when we met after this incident, but I hadn't considered that possibility—the boss nodded and...sneered! I'd been the one puzzling over how to react the whole time. I felt embarrassed about the incident, and now I felt even worse. I took it seriously. Yes! I'll admit to myself, because I think self-deception is the worst thing, so I'll admit that something stirred in my heart when he leaned over me like that, whispering like that... well, he just whispered, and now I see how stupid I am. Maybe it's because I want someone so badly. Oh no! No more! I even had thoughts that he had feelings for me, how naive I am, and my mom always warns me like that... I have to stop thinking about it, or all my work on building my self-confidence will be ruined. Yes, I'm working on being more confident in my relationships and in life in general, because I've decided I'm too good and I let myself be manipulated. And feeling inferior to someone isn't all that pleasant.

March 8th, Women's Day

. Great... Women's Day, and I don't even have anyone to wish me well. I don't ask for anything more than wishes. Is that too much?

I was reluctant to go to work. I didn't want to look at my boss, especially not at his silly grins. But I have no choice, I have to work, well, that's life, no one said it would be easy.

Upon entering work, I was greeted with a pleasant surprise. I received a lovely little flower from the receptionist, along with, of course, best wishes. This brightened my mood considerably, and I entered the office with a faint smile. But that smile quickly vanished, specifically because my boss was standing in my office with Natalia, the one who works on the fashion department ad, and with whom I share the office. They were standing by the window, she was showing him something and chatting loudly, and he was nodding with a smile. I walked past them indifferently and went to my desk.

"Oh, Mrs. Zuzanna," the idiot feigned surprise, "how's your work going?

" "Good, great, absolutely wonderful!" I exclaimed, somewhat hysterically, and dug into my purse, as if searching for something important. I wanted them to resume their conversation, but they were looking at me with an angry look of surprise. What could I do? I had to explain my strange outburst. Next time, I'll think ten times before I speak. Anyway... I always tell myself that, and I always make the same mistake: I'm definitely too spontaneous. But I had to get out of it somehow, so I started:

"I'm sorry for that strange exclamation. Sometimes my tongue gets out of control and plays these 'tricks' on me." I smiled sheepishly and started rummaging through my bag again.

"But there has to be a reason for these 'tricks,' right?" he said, smiling at me. Not mockingly, nor maliciously, just normal, nice...beautiful. I wanted to run up to him and strangle him with that blue tie, then throw him out the door, for making me have such mood swings because of him. Because when I saw that smile, I forgot why I was in such a bad mood today. I was angry with myself for standing there staring at him like the proverbial magpie in a headlock. I stood there smiling until he said:

"Well, is there a reason?" I wanted to tell him, "Yes, you're the reason. I can't control my body's impulses around you," but of course I didn't. I just smiled and said,

"It's because today is Women's Day, and I... I received a beautiful flower from Mr. Henryk today, and I thought I wouldn't even get well wishes from anyone. It was very nice, it put me in a positive mood, and that's why I'm shouting so much," I said quickly.

The boss looked at me a little incredulously; my answer probably seemed ridiculous and trivial to him, but I thought I'd pulled it off well. Suddenly, he walked briskly toward me, took my hand, and pressed it to his lips. He stayed like that for a moment, then straightened up and said,

"I'm so sorry, ma'am, it's reprehensible to forget about Women's Day, but I have to admit that...

" "You forgot," I interrupted him with satisfaction. It made me laugh that he would now be running around buying flowers for all the women in the company, and there were 54 of us.

"Yes, I forgot...

" "It doesn't matter, we'll fix it in a moment," I said, seeing how embarrassed and frightened he looked. "Has anyone seen you at the office today?" I asked.

"No. Just Ms. Natalia and you.

" "That's fine, stay in our office and I'll run for the flowers, okay?

" "You're an angel, how can I repay you?"

"Don't leave here, I don't want our girls to feel bad that the boss treats them like... well, never mind. We deserve respect, even though we're just your employees."

My words clearly touched him, because he looked at me reproachfully, stood up quickly, and pressed three hundred zlotys into my hand.

"The girls from the bank had beautiful bouquets of gerberas," I said, still standing with my hand outstretched.

He pulled out another three hundred zlotys, handed it to me, and as he was leaving, he stood next to me and said seriously,

"I'll ask you to come to my office when you get back."

I went, bought flowers and doughnuts, and Natalia and I distributed them to all the women on behalf of the boss. They were very happy, and soon all the offices were decorated with colorful mugs and glasses filled with flowers.

Following the boss's orders... well, the boss's orders, correct wording, so following the boss's orders, after the flower drive, I went to his office. When I entered, he was standing by the mirrored window, watching the women, who were happily examining their elegant bouquets and feasting on doughnuts.

"They're happy, aren't they?" he stated more than asked.

"Of course they are, every woman is happy when she receives flowers," I replied.

"And did you buy any for yourself?

" "No, I didn't.

" "Why?

" "Because I didn't want...

" "You didn't want flowers from me?"

"That's not the point, I didn't want to buy flowers for myself, because that wouldn't make sense; it's like buying myself a birthday present."

"What annoys me about you is that everything seems pointless, strange, or embarrassing to you.

" "Not everything, only what it really is.

" "Ms. Zuzanna... you think of me as a boss who doesn't care about employees, treats them as objects, and only cares about his own interests, right?

" "Yes!" My answer surprised him. He looked at me with those alluring eyes and said,

"I try not to make my employees feel that way," he said. He was sad and seemed to mean it sincerely.

"Apparently, you're not trying hard enough, and besides, I'm not an expert in employer-employee relations, so I ask that we don't discuss this topic any further.

" "But I really want our relationship to be as close and as good as possible...

" "You mean 'ours'?"

"Mine and yours," he looked at me expectantly. I wanted to pause time so I could think of a response, but unfortunately, I don't have that option, and I deeply regret it. Instead, I said,

"Our relationship is good, at least I'm not complaining.

" "But I'd like it to be even better," he said, standing up and suddenly standing next to me.

"No problem," I replied quickly, "maybe we can start right away. Here's a doughnut for you, sir. I thought you might like it, and since I bought some for the girls, I thought of you too. Here," I pressed the doughnut into his hand. He must not have expected this, because his expression was very surprised.

"What, we've already gotten closer, haven't we?" I asked with a smile and left his office. When I closed the door, I burst into hysterical laughter.

March 10th.

Yesterday, my boss didn't speak to me at all, he walked past me and glared at me, while I grinned from ear to ear. I could see it was really irritating him, so I tried to smile even wider each time we met.

But today he couldn't take it anymore and was acting very pretentious towards me. Just as we greeted him, he demanded my receipt and the rest of the money he'd given me to buy flowers for Women's Day. There wouldn't have been anything offensive about it if I hadn't given him the money immediately after I got back, and if he hadn't said it in front of the colleagues I work with.

"I wanted to point out that I gave you both the receipt and the money after I got back from the flower shop," I said nervously.

"I don't remember," he said. He stood over my desk and brazenly watched me get flustered and glance at my colleagues.

"It's none of my business. I gave you the money and put it on my desk.

" "You must be doing something—oh no! That was too much. What was he thinking, the idiot.

" "Am I doing something?" Do you think I'd be capable of taking money that doesn't belong to me? My salary is enough for me to live on; I don't need to take anyone else's money, and I'm certainly not stupid or desperate enough to steal money from my BOSS!" I shouted, emphasizing the word BOSS.

I was furious and deeply hurt by these suspicions. I stood up and left, slamming the door behind me.

I quickly went to the restroom, needing to calm down. In fact, I felt like crying. This self-assured stiff had accused me of things I couldn't even fathom. No one had ever upset me like that. He did it in front of my friends, and it's so easy to change someone's mind. And who would want to hang out with someone who's dishonest and steals... yes, steals, because that's exactly what my boss had accused me of. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me.

"Ms. Zuzanna – yes, it was him. I didn't feel like talking to him and didn't stop. But he ran over and stood in front of me.

"Excuse me," he said in one breath. I didn't reply, so he continued: "I'm having a bad day, and that's probably why I attacked you like that.

" "Why me?

" "I don't know..."

"You insulted me in front of my friends and you can't explain why?

" "Well...yes," he replied. "Well, no! I wanted to jump him and scratch his eyes out.

"Do you remember that I gave the money back?

" "Yes...

" "I don't believe it" – that was the height of impudence – "and yet...

" "But Mrs. Zuzanna...

" "Don't bother. You knew perfectly well I gave the money back, and yet you accused me of stealing because you were having a bad day and I happened to be there. It's ridiculous.

" "But why stealing in the first place?"

"You accused me of not returning the money, and if not, then by simple, logical reasoning, if I didn't return it, then I took it, and the money wasn't mine. What conclusion can I draw from that? That I would be taking someone else's money, and that's THEFT!" I was far too nervous.

"Ms. Zuzanna, you're beautiful when you're angry," I choked. My emotions almost burst my throat, and he told me I was beautiful.

"Excuse me? You must be joking.

" "You're not very beautiful, and I'd like to invite you to dinner.

" "Did you create this whole situation to invite me to dinner?

" "Yes.

" "But why?

" "Because you're the kind of woman who, I'm one hundred percent sure, a simple invitation for a date wouldn't make the slightest impression on. Besides, I couldn't resist the sight. You're truly charming when you scream..."

I didn't know what to say, I stood there staring at him.

"So, shall we go?" he asked with a smile.

"Let's go," I replied, and felt a smile light up my face.

aili for keN

Someone said that human life is only a moment. So what's the life of a butterfly that enjoys its flight for only a few hours? From that perspective, it's good to be human. But sometimes I envy butterflies. Their flight is short, but life is beautiful.

My name is Kenji, and I've been working at a beauty salon for five years. I enjoy my job, even though I don't always like the clients. However, today my client was a shy girl. At first, she was a little shy and distant towards me. But over time, she relaxed. As I later learned, her name was Aili.

I wonder what the world looks like through a butterfly's eyes. Is it any different from ours? Maybe it sees it upside down, backwards, or from below. I suspect a butterfly is an observer. It knows it's about to leave, so it wants to see as much as possible. It notices details I don't.

Today I arrived at the salon a little later. I spent a good part of the day taking care of paperwork. After all the chaos, it was nice to see her again, waiting for her turn.

Do butterflies have feelings? I've never seen them cry. Or maybe they just don't like being seen like that—that's understandable. But why haven't I seen them happy either? Could the thought of the impending end be depressing them so much?

Last night I had to stay late at work. She stayed with me. I don't know how it happened, but as soon as the last employee left the factory, we were locked in a hellish embrace, proving our mutual desire. But first thing in the morning, she was gone, and I never saw her again.

Then something happened to me. I started crying. Salty drops, one by one, fell into the small glass coffin. I thought that once I cried all my tears and threw the container away, my sorrows would be gone. Yet, even though each one landed in the coffin, some might say it was empty. But I knew it was full of dry tears I was afraid to shed.

My butterfly flew away. But now, as the redness drained from me, I believed I would find it soon.

The sun was shining

The sun was shining. The curtains swayed gently in the summer breeze. The cheerful chirping of birds soothed the red-haired girl's tired soul. Her green eyes

sparkled with a strange light. She held a mug of cold tea in her hand. The green, lush grass caressed her aching feet. She rested her head on the wooden back of a garden chair, staring out the window of her house. She wasn't beautiful, nor was she ugly.

Just ordinary. Her hair stood out, which often led to unpleasant teasing from her peers, especially the opposite sex. She liked most things about herself except for her nose, which she considered too large. Of course, like her friends, she tried to stick to a diet, which wasn't very successful, considering that when she felt like it, she could eat an entire bar of milk chocolate. Later, she would experience terrible pangs of conscience and try to vomit the contents of her stomach into the toilet. She never succeeded. Although she had lost a lot of weight recently, it wasn't the result of any diet. Her grades were average. She had many friends, or rather, girlfriends, as she'd barely spoken to any boys for about three years (excluding those summers) for various reasons. I must emphasize that she wasn't a feminist. Quite the opposite. She believed that women who once fought for equal rights had made a fatal mistake, because if it weren't for them, she could have spent all day at home instead of going to school. She liked to think about many things. Simply sitting in a quiet corner and thinking about various things, or inventing interesting love stories involving herself. This particular girl was named Magda. She wasn't anyone special. She didn't stand out from the crowd of other teenagers. She didn't smoke. She didn't do drugs. She lived her dreams, which she couldn't keep to herself, and she always talked about them to her closest friends (and I'm not referring to her family). She often regretted keeping her mouth shut, which, incidentally, she wore braces. As you can see, she was truly an ordinary teenager, but the events that took place at the beginning of summer break and lasted less than two months meant she was no longer an ordinary seventeen-year-old. Her perspective and view of the world around her changed. Still staring out the window, she rested her head on her sun-baked hand. Her thoughts drifted back to the beginning of summer break…

"Great competition from Radio ZET!" the announcer exclaimed. Magda was painting her toenails. Summer break began today. Her first year of high school had ended. She felt wonderful!

"You've never had anything like this before! Just text 7698 to win an unforgettable trip for two. A luxury ship… the Caribbean Sea… But that's not all. Can you imagine the most glamorous stars of Hollywood aboard the Marine? Among them were Mel Gibson, Demi Moore, Salma Hayek, Tom Cruise, and many others?

You can spend an unforgettable week drinking champagne with the most famous faces in world cinema. Send text messages. You only have until tonight. We'll randomly select one from the submitted text messages and call the lucky winner around 8:30 PM. Only Radio ZET can provide you with such excitement! – a moment later, music played on the radio. Some new summer hit. Magda had probably heard it a thousand times, and at least for the fourth time today. Just like the announcements about this contest today. They'd been buzzing about it for about two weeks now. She could imagine how much money they must be making off these text messages. Although she didn't want to admit it to anyone, she sent two yesterday. She didn't believe she could win something like that, but she wanted to try. She always had a chance; it would be pretty cool to sail the Caribbean Sea while watching handsome actors. Especially since Orlando Bloom was supposed to be on that ship. No, that's it! – she said to herself. She'd long ago decided that Bloom was a thing of the past. But as often as she tried to forget him and stop acting like a stupid brat with a crush on someone she didn't even know, he kept popping into her mind at least three times an hour. Her friends thought Bloom was a complete faggot, and sometimes, even though she didn't tell them, she agreed with them, seeing the actor in his pink blouse, half-long curly hair, and fuzzy beard. But there were also photos that took her breath away. She loved looking at them and imagining being with him. Touching him, kissing him, and then making love to him in some quiet spot. That was just how she was, and although part of her mind told her she'd never meet him, never feel his touch, the other half believed that day would come, that her dream would come true. And now she sat quietly in the kitchen, painting her nails and losing herself in her thoughts again.

In a week, she was supposed to fly to New York, where she'd recently spent her vacation. Her brother and aunt lived there, so her parents sent her there, seeing no other way to spend her vacation. Don't think she was rich or anything. Her aunt, who had lived in the US for 25 years and owned her own jewelry store, where her brother worked, provided the tickets, accommodations, and meals. Magda's brother didn't work for her aunt. Honestly, she didn't want to go there for several reasons, which I won't mention because it would take up a significant portion of this story. However, she preferred it to staying home, where she'd probably do nothing but watch TV and eat ice cream. So, you could say that those text messages she sent last night before going to bed were meant to save her from summer boredom.

When the nail polish dried on her fingers, she got up and poured herself some cold water. She was alone in the house. Her parents had gone to work, and her other brother, who still lived with them, had gone out with his friends for a cold beer. So Magda could do what she most wanted to do: simply nothing. She went out into the garden, followed by her dog. She decided that this summer she would sunbathe a lot. With very fair skin and a smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks, tanning was difficult for her. Every summer, she spent at least three hours a day lying flat on a dirty New York beach, praying that the sun's rays would reach her pale skin. To no avail. After such a dose of sun, her complexion turned red, and then the top layer of skin peeled away painfully. Holding her Walkman, sunglasses, towel, and suntan oil, she shuffled out onto the green grass in her flip-flops. She spread out a towel and lay down comfortably. It was almost 12 p.m. Sunbathing was forbidden at this time, as the sun was very harmful, but she didn't care. She put on her favorite Meredith Brooks song, "Bitch," and took advantage of the beautiful weather. She spent about two hours doing nothing. At 4 p.m., she had an appointment with her friends at the pizzeria where they always said goodbye before vacation. At 3 p.m., she returned home, took a quick shower, and left.

All the girls were already there except Hania, who was always late.

"Hey," all five seventeen-year-olds greeted each other. "As usual, are we waiting for Hania?"

Magda asked.

"How could it be otherwise?" replied Ania, a petite brunette, Magda's best friend. They chatted for several minutes about their vacation plans while waiting for the latecomer. When Hania finally arrived, they ordered pizza and cold drinks.

"It's a shame Miśka and Balbina aren't with us," Ania muttered.

"Actually, why didn't we tell them we were coming here?" Zuzia asked.

"Why do we need them here?" Julka squealed. "We've always met as a group of six, and it should stay that way.

" "I always thought they should come here with us," Magda said. Lately, things hadn't been going well with Julka, and frankly, she would have preferred the company of the two absent girls.

"Exactly..." Hania joined the conversation. Silence fell. Only Estera sat quietly, not contributing to this trivial and uninteresting discussion.

Magda really disliked situations like this and tried desperately to keep the conversation going.

"Do you know about that Radio ZET competition?

" "Who wouldn't?" Ania said wearily.

"Did you send text messages?" Magda continued. "To be honest, I did..." She spilled the beans again, though she didn't want to tell anyone.

- Me too - Hania smiled at her - Come on, the chances of winning anything are zero anyway.

"I know... but Bloom... I had to send... the Caribbean...

" "Not that Bloom again!" Zuzia said in a resigned voice. "When will you finally get over it?

" "I guess never... And if I win, who's going with me?" Julka immediately yelled,

"ME!!! Of course I am!" Magda thought that if she were forced to be with her for a whole week, she would probably give up the trip altogether. Although everyone said those six girls were like inseparable lovebirds, something had long since started to go sour between them. In reality, Magda was only close to Ania, Hania, and Zuzia. Julka and Estera really annoyed her, but she didn't know why.

"Julka," Ania said, tempering her enthusiasm. "If Magda won, she'd take me." Magda smiled at her friend, who always knew what was on her mind.

To avoid looking artificial, she started laughing, treating it as a joke. In a more relaxed atmosphere, they ate the pizza served, chatting and laughing at Magda's vulgar jokes.

After returning home, Magda called Ania to discuss the meeting. They were supposed to meet tomorrow at Ania's house. They had been talking for exactly half an hour when she heard her mother's cries from downstairs, needing to use the phone. Magda ended the conversation, agreeing on a specific time. When she finally managed to say goodbye to her friend, she glanced at her watch. It was exactly 8:30 PM. She heard the faint sound of her cell phone ringing. A shiver of excitement ran through her. But that didn't mean anything… she said, reaching for the phone. She glanced at the screen. It was calling: an unknown number. With a trembling hand, she pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" she asked uncertainly.

"Good evening," said a male voice. "Did you send a text message during the Radio ZET competition?

" "Yes," she whispered. She realized that everyone listening to Radio ZET was hearing this conversation.

"You won the grand prize, a week's stay aboard a luxury cruise ship..." Magda didn't hear the rest of the words, lost in her own thoughts. She couldn't believe it. She: an ordinary seventeen-year-old... she won... She's dreaming... this can't be true! Only when she heard the fanfare did she snap out of her thoughts.

"Are you there?" the announcer asked.

"Yes... but I can't believe I won. "

"You have to. Congratulations. Thank you for talking with me.

" "Thank you too..." She was about to hang up when a woman's voice came on the line:

"Please don't hang up. We need your details." Magda guessed it was no longer on the air. She answered the woman's questions one by one, but she couldn't believe it all and later wondered if she'd given the correct answers. When the interview finally ended, Magda lay down on the bed and decided that maybe this vacation wouldn't be completely wasted after all...

a fairy tale without a moral for children with jumping minds

"Creating strong interpersonal bonds is essential for a child's proper development." Especially in the three-year plan, I thought of my little vampire in the same terms as the previous regime. By the way, the road to hell is probably paved with self-help books. If one followed all the recommendations: "How to become a good mother," "How to make a child grow up to be a happy person," etc., one (read: mother) would probably end up in a psychiatric ward with symptoms of the final stages of depression. Listening to sermons at Sunday Mass can also make you go crazy. Priests have become incredibly concerned with psychology lately. Everywhere I go, I hear: "Listen to your child," "Talk to them," "Observe them carefully." My vampire is still too young for now and isn't yet considering joining any cult. He has no problem with alcohol, cigarettes, or other substances. Although I've been keeping a close eye on him lately, to see if his pupils are dilated or constricted (I never remember the effects of drugs). He probably wouldn't be able to handle this or that yet, but the nanny who's taking care of him probably is.

Recently, Marek asked if I was feeling okay. Me? I look absolutely thriving. The fact that I sometimes mention the child at work and express doubts about the nanny's reputation isn't a sign of illness, is it?

"You know, Magda, the frequency of your "sometimes" is alarmingly high.

" "What do you mean?"

"That it's not normal.

" "You don't know yourself. You don't have children of your own. We'll talk when you've taken care of them.

What's this all about? So you can't mention your own child. By the way, maybe I'm exaggerating. The cell phone bill is five times higher since the nanny started taking care of the vampire. But how can you not think about it? Yesterday, as usual, I was coming back by train. And there were two unfledged, dressed-up women, and God knows what else, telling each other what they're doing, where they're doing it, and who they're doing it with." One is about 34 (I suspect that after scraping off the 3 kilogram layer of fluids, not the good kind—powders, mascaras, creams, and other such things—she'd be about sixteen), the other, by the looks of it, is about two years younger (about 14 after scraping off the years). They talk, smile, even laugh out loud, and glance unabashedly at the men who appear in the doorway. Oh, youth, I think. But what's youth? Just listening to them makes my old, childish ears redden. And then they started telling their usual fairy tales. I listened so intently that I almost forgot to get off. Their tales sounded so familiar to me. Maybe because I once spent a vacation in the village they were gossiping about. The people there were indeed strange. There was also one very pretty young woman there. At the time, I wasn't at all surprised that no one spoke to her. He was a young man, so he had something else on his mind.

It's late. And a childhood rhyme has just stuck with me. A slightly macabre one.

"Don't look under your skirts

, flowerpots will fall on you,

there will be no children,

only little guinea fowl.

I'll curse you ,

you'll be in heaven in no time."

Brrr, to think about such things in the evening. And then the streetlights went out again. I'll have to run the next 100 meters with my heart in my mouth. Wait a minute, what was that time? A world record in the 100-meter dash? I suspect the fastest woman in the world would break any record in fear. Well, maybe not me. The last time I ran after a vampire was two years ago, when he was learning to walk. You could call it: an obstacle course race over the world's shortest distance. And I marvel at the sprinter's motivation to achieve the best time. This ride home seems awfully long. It's strange that so many coincidences today. At work, besides Mark and his suggestions about my mental health, train gossip about my childhood village, there was also that little list. I even remembered that the only young person in the village, the woman no one spoke to, must have been crazy. They were terribly afraid of "differentness" there. Grandma forbade me from going to the grove behind the house. And there was always a light on there, and that's where the young woman disappeared. As if the villagers had excluded her from their community. Grandma would sometimes look at that spot, and then tears would roll down her cheeks like peas, and her eyes would be so clear and distant.

"My Jasia, my Jasia," she would whisper.

"What Jasia, Grandma?" I would ask. And then she would look at me as if I'd summoned the devil.

Brrr, I still get chills when I remember. Phew, finally a normal sidewalk and the streetlights are working. Another five minutes and I'd be home.

I decided to surprise the vampire and the babysitter. I'm here about an hour early today. I thought I'd sneak into the house unnoticed and surprise them. I quietly climbed the stairs, the key not even grating in the lock. Here I am. I slip my shoes into my right hand and tiptoe into the vampire's room. I just stumbled upon a fairy tale, I thought to myself.

"Don't look!" the girl said, climbing the ladder to the boy standing under the tree. The ladder was missing a rung. She'd lost that rung when the girl's grandmother was so young and beautiful that all the boys in the village turned their heads. Grandma would then go up to the loft to stack hay. On that hay... well, that one... you're too young to tell you about hay. (Fortunately, I thought.) Anyway, because of that hay, one Sunday a young boy took his dog with him and went into the forest. He didn't return. People searched for him later, but there was no trace of him. However, the villagers said that the grove behind Grandma's house was haunted, and even though the biggest berries grew there, they couldn't pick them. Apparently, they were enchanted.

"How is it enchanted?" asked the little vampire (I must admit I didn't like this story at all, but I was also curious what kind of berries they were).

"So enchanted that if someone tasted them, they kept coming back to the forest and hanging out there until they finally disappeared.

" "Oh my," my little vampire exclaimed, "I don't want a story like that where people disappear.

" "Hush, little one, wait to see what happens next," my guardian said sharply.

Surprisingly, the little vampire wasn't frightened at all. He lay down calmly, as if he'd heard the story a hundred times before, and waited patiently for the next part.

"Grandma had a much younger sister. Such a little angel. She was funny, cheerful, always helping everyone. She had beautiful black curls, and everyone said she'd grow up to be the prettiest girl in the village, so she'd have no shortage of suitors.

" "And who's the suitor?" my son asked in a very learned voice.

"A lover is a boy like you, only a little bigger.

" "I'll be a lover soon too," my son said, almost falling into a narcissistic mood.

"Hush, I'll continue," the caregiver said, yawning.

Jasia had a cat named Mruczuś. Once, the kitten ran after a bird into the forest. He was gone for a day, then another. On the third day, Jasia couldn't take it anymore and went looking for him. She was gone for two days. Finally, she returned. But she was a changed woman. Her eyes were empty and terribly sad. She returned without the cat. Then, sometimes, someone saw the cat. They got scared. The cat looked completely different from Jasia's, like a wild one. His eyes darkened. From the road, you could sometimes spot him too, sitting in a grove, staring at a birch tree. Jasia, too, seemed to be taking on a bit of that cat. She would disappear into the grove for days on end. People in the village started saying she would become a witch. They stopped talking to Grandma. And Grandma had to find a husband to keep the house and the entire farm from falling into ruin. Then the black roosters, the guinea fowl, started dying. The people couldn't take it anymore and ordered Johnny to build a cottage in the grove. And this is what happens to children who don't listen to their parents.

The nanny finished the story, and the hairs on my arms stood on end with fear. Meanwhile, the little vampire had begun to snore.

The Sun Was Shining Part 2

Everything was arranged. Magda and Ania were leaving Warsaw on July 15th. They were flying to the Dominican Republic, and from there their ship was leaving the next day. They were about to experience an unforgettable adventure.

A few days before their departure, both of them had become obsessed with buying all sorts of unnecessary things.

They wanted to be prepared for anything. Slowly, their suitcases filled with summer dresses, skirts, shorts, tank tops, flip-flops, and other fashionable items. All the best, of course. Their parents considered spending money on such trivial things truly foolish, so the girls had to buy everything with their own pocket money, which melted like ice on a hot day. Finally, when there was nothing left in their wallets, they zipped up their suitcases and showed up at Okęcie Airport in Warsaw. They said goodbye to their parents, assuring them they wouldn't smoke, drink, do drugs, and under no circumstances would they approach strange men. When the long monologue of prohibitions and prohibitions, interrupted by their mothers' sobs, finally ended, the girls, breathing a sigh of relief, boarded the Boeing 767 that was taking them on an unearthly journey.

"Finally free!" Ania screamed as the plane took off. "We're leaving the gray world behind. Aren't you happy?" she asked, seeing her friend's face.

"Of course I'm happy. You have no idea how happy I am... only... only...

" "Only what?

" "I can't believe it all. I think I'm about to wake up and...

" "You're starting again..." Ania sighed. "Look at these people, don't they look real?" She gestured to the plane's passengers. Magda glanced at them and saw an old man picking his nose.

"Ugh..." they both burst out laughing. "You're right. Only he looks too real.

The flight took about 10 hours. Despite that, the time flew by rather quickly. They gorged on salted peanuts and drank apple juice or Coke. For almost the entire journey, Magda spent time explaining to Ania how she planned to woo Mr. Bloom. However, when she noticed she was nodding off, she changed the subject. After about six hours of chatter, they both fell asleep. They only woke up when the stewardess asked everyone to fasten their seatbelts and prepare for landing.

Radio Zet correspondent Grzesiu, an older, very pleasant Pole living permanently in the Dominican Republic, arrived at the airport in Santa de Cuba to pick up the girls. He was an older, very nice Pole living in the Dominican Republic. Magda commented that despite his baldness, he was quite handsome. The "guardian" told them he would take them to the hotel now, and tomorrow morning he would pick them up, and they would go straight to the port where the ship Marine was waiting.

When the exhausted and barely alive girls finally reached the small hotel, they lay down on the bed and fell asleep without a second thought. The ringing of the alarm clock woke them up from their blissful slumber.

"I haven't brushed my teeth yet, Mom," Ania mumbled in her sleep. Magda reached for the clock on the bedside table. It was 7:15.

"Get up, you crazy girl!" she said, yawning. "We have to get going. That guy from the radio is coming at eight.

" "Just a few more minutes and I'll be up. Just…" she suddenly snored loudly.

"You wanted this yourself." Magda got up and went to the bathroom. She returned with a glass of water in her hand. "I'm counting to three," she stood over Ania. "If you don't get up soon, I'll pour this over your head.

" "God, you nasty creature." Ania sat down on the bed, yawning.

At eight, washed, combed, and in new clothes, they stood in front of Grzesiek's car.

"So how are the girls?" he greeted them, taking their suitcases and putting them in the trunk.

"A little nervous, but overall, everything's fine.

" "That's very good. So you know everything?" The ship leaves at 9:00, and I'll be back to pick you up in exactly seven days. Got it?" The girls nodded. "Well, no more nonsense," he smiled at them with a wink. "All three of them got in the car.

After about 30 minutes, Magda and Ania were already in their rooms on the ship. Grzesiu put down their luggage and immediately said goodbye. The girls looked around the room. It was better than their wildest dreams. The room was divided into two bedrooms and one elegant bathroom.

Everything was furnished with taste and elegance.

"Magda, we're... we're in paradise!" Ania whispered. But Magda wasn't listening. She was lost in thought again. She was wondering where Orlando's room was and when she'd get to see him. Of course, she was happy to have the opportunity to see other famous people, but he was the most important person to her. "Magda!" Ania tugged on her hand. "Are you even listening to me?" Magda looked at her, confused.

"Yes, of course," she tried to evade.

"Sure... You're probably thinking about Bloom. I'll even bet.

" "Of course, about him. I've never been this close to him. Do you understand that? Orlando Bloom is within my reach!

" "But he's...

" "Divine!" Magda interrupted. She knew exactly how Anne felt about him and didn't want to hear it now. Besides, she didn't want anyone to insult him at all.

"I wouldn't put it that way. I'd say he's...

" "Stop it," she snapped. "He's divine, period!

" "As you wish..." Besides, I'm going to do some sightseeing and then swim." Anne reached for her bag with her swimsuit and towel. She loved swimming. "Are you coming with me?

" "Sure. Why not?"

The girls explored almost the entire ship. Of course, it turned out that a certain section of the ship was reserved just for the stars, where ordinary passengers weren't allowed. Probably the more luxurious one.

"This is the height of rudeness. Why do they have more rights than us?" Ania complained to Magda.

"Maybe because they have about 20 million złoty in their bank accounts?" As she spoke, she stared at the sign hanging on the massive wooden door.

FOR VIP ONLY.

"Come on, we won't be standing here like calves. We'll swim in the outdoor pool. It was the coolest there. And you can sunbathe.

" "Ania, does that mean I won't see Bloom?" Magda looked as if she'd aged ten years.

"Hey, come on! You'll definitely see him," Ania grabbed her friend's arm. "He won't be sitting there all the time. Besides, why worry about it? Look at the beautiful weather and how many handsome men are hanging around." Magda looked around. A dark-skinned boy with dark hair, who looked like he was Spanish or something, smiled faintly at her. "This is where our real life begins," Ania continued. "Our paradise on earth."

"Come on. My paradise will begin when I see Bloom.

" "God," Ania rolled her eyes to the heavens, "why did you punish me with such a crazy friend? Magda, you'd better look for someone real, not this...

" "Don't finish, okay?"

"Okay, I'm not saying anything anymore, or you'll beat me up."

The girls spread out their towels by the pool. Most of the loungers were occupied by tourists. Magda tried to take it all in. The people, the pool, the sea. She wanted to memorize every detail (she'd forgotten her camera, which she considered an unforgivable mistake).

After a moment, about 10 meters in front of her, the same boy who had smiled at her earlier appeared. He was quite handsome. Only now he wasn't looking at her; instead, he was talking to some suspicious guy with a beard who looked like an Arab. Magda must have stared at the two men for a long time, because Ania finally tugged at her towel.

"Who did you spot?" she asked, looking in the same direction as Magda. After a moment, she added, "Oh, I see. He's quite good. Talk to him.

" "Are you even talking?" Magda blushed.

"I'm not stupid. I've seen you staring at that guy for about ten minutes."

"No, he's just a bit suspicious, that's all.

" "He's rather sexy," Ania persisted.

"Listen, if you like him, approach him yourself. There's only one guy for me," Ania snorted contemptuously.

"Stop your daydreaming and come down to earth," she said, putting on her sunglasses and lying down on a towel. After a moment, the stranger ended the conversation and began walking towards where Magda was lying. When he saw her looking at him, he smiled, revealing a row of snow-white teeth. For a moment, the girl thought he was going to approach her, but he passed her and moved on. The suspicious man with the beard remained standing in the same spot, looking around nervously and muttering something under his breath. Magda watched him for a long moment, then lay down next to Ania.

a beautiful summer day

The jeep screeched to a halt. The sergeant loved it. He was impressed by the surprised faces of the girls from Minnesota. Unfortunately, he wasn't in Minnesota; there were no girls. He was standing in front of a nondescript bungalow. One of many similar ones on the island. The engineers had built it months ago for the convenience of their personnel.

"Major Anderson—we have to go.

" "Yes, I know, Sergeant."

He had been riding with Anderson for a week, ever since they sent him from Hawaii. He drove here and there without saying a word. He had the opportunity to see the headquarters and all the island's major facilities. Not bad service for the times.

It was starting to dawn. It was amazing how quickly light gets in the tropics. The driver turned off the headlights, and they both admired the view from the beaten track winding up the mountainside. The engineers had done an incredible job getting it operational so quickly. The wounds visible in the surrounding jungle spoke volumes about what had happened. Only the ocean was pristine blue, and the mere sight of it filled them with peace. The road was beginning to drag. The beasts' lair was almost an hour's drive. The beasts were known to explode, so no one of importance lived near their lair. Yesterday, three had erupted. Flames were visible all over the island, even on the other side of the rocks. This was to be expected. The remaining beasts took flight, returning in the evening. Some landed with proud wings spread in victory, others, wounded and maimed, clung to the safety of the ground. And so, tomorrow, they would begin their hunt anew.

The corporal at the gate gave a formal salute and raised the barrier. They entered the military compound. Moving along a well-marked path, they headed for the lair of one of the beasts. Several people were already waiting for Anderson. He greeted them perfunctorily and approached the massive body. He was the best expert in his field. He could laugh at himself for saying he was the best; because he was the only one. For the first time, the beast was about to give birth, so he had the privilege of being the first. Everything had to be perfect. He had to check everything. Tomorrow would be the birth, and he would be there to do it all over again. Before disappearing inside, he looked up at the sky again and thought, "What a beautiful summer day."

He had no time to think. He immediately got to work. He unscrewed everything. He checked every screw, inspected every wire. Every piece of equipment had to be functional. There, in the air, there would be no time for repetition. One of the screwdrivers slipped from his hand, and he had to tighten some of the screws with his own fingers. He knew how to improvise, but after a few hours of work, his hands began to bleed. He wrapped them in pieces of cloth and continued working. The temperature inside reached 40 degrees Celsius, and despite the soldiers giving him fluids, he felt his lips crack from dehydration.

He didn't stop. All that was left was to put all the equipment back together, go to bed, and wait for tomorrow's delivery. Exhaustion was making itself felt; he felt his work slowing down. Fortunately, just three more screws and he'd be done. He stepped outside. It was starting to get dark. He looked at the general standing nearby and said, "Okay. We can begin."

He'd slept a few hours in one of the complex's buildings. There was no time to return to his temporary home. Wake-up call was scheduled for 3:00 AM. Like the others, he'd donned his uniform. Once airborne, he'd have two more hours of sleep, three less than the rest of the crew. He adjusted the bandages on his injured hands and headed off for the briefing. He was utterly bored. He'd already heard its pompous content, so he didn't share the others' enthusiasm. He simply shook hands with the right people and climbed into the beast. He found a comfortable spot and fell asleep before they were airborne.

He woke up around 6:00 AM. He entered the chamber with the child and began work. This time, the working conditions were completely different. The chamber was around -20 degrees Celsius, so despite his gloves, his hands were numb. He checked all the equipment. All the devices had to function flawlessly; nothing could go wrong. The pain in his injured hands was even more acute than yesterday. He finished half an hour before giving birth. He left the chamber and sat down with the others. They were preparing. When they arrived, they did so. The child fell from the beast's bulging belly and began its own incredibly short life. They could return home in peace.

Mr. Ichi began his daily walk. The war had somehow bypassed his city. As every day, he walked his favorite route. He was no longer young. Once, as an Imperial official, he had walked this way early in the morning. Now, as a retiree, he avoided the morning rush hour and could enjoy the right to walk at any time. He chose late morning or early afternoon. When he reached the bridge, he stopped. He looked up at the sky.

"What a beautiful summer day," he thought.

Then something unexpected happened. Time froze. Mr. Ichi, astonished, began to watch the people frozen in their moment. Even though he was aware he was standing motionless on the bridge, images of his surroundings flashed before his eyes, as if from a slowly rotating camera. When he returned to his starting point, he felt himself floating in space. He knew his soul was leaving his body. Then he began to move rapidly. He couldn't describe what surrounded him in words; it resembled a tunnel, but it wasn't. Despite being an educated man, his vocabulary was too limited to describe his surroundings. Then he materialized. It was hard to call it a sensation, but he could define his current shape. It was round. It resembled a red blood cell. After a moment, he realized the truth: he was an erythrocyte. Beside him were other erythrocytes. Strangely, they, like him, had their own consciousness. Some were still standing beside him on the bridge, others were hiding in the nooks and crannies of the suburbs; some he knew personally, others were complete strangers to him. He felt their thoughts and desires, learned their history. Then he realized he was inside a man named Anderson. He was a military man. He stood on the tarmac, being decorated. Mr. Ichi wanted to know why. He entered the soldier's thoughts. He noticed that his consciousness was in the future. Several hours had passed since he stood on the bridge, and he was far from the country. Then he understood what Anderson had done. He didn't want to be inside this monster. He wanted to get as far away from it as possible. But when he found the exit, the sun burned his soul.

"Major Anderson," said the nurse, looking at the decorations with interest, "please go to the infirmary. This is the first time I've seen such heavy bleeding from a wound as old and minor as the one on your hands. You need to be dressed again.

" "Okay, Nurse."

Anderson walked slowly toward the infirmary. He paused for a moment and turned his head to take one last look at the beast's side, which was inscribed: "Enola Gay."