A trip

Piotr slowly and carefully packed his luggage. The items he was stuffing into his enormous travel bag were long past their usual standard. It had taken him almost a year to acquire all these items.

A long year of saving, effort, and maintaining a profound secret.

This unusual, mere three-day trip, which he had promised his family without revealing its nature, had cost him more money and effort than a normal two-week vacation at a standard resort.

He had promised Beata and the children a trip they would remember for a lifetime, just as he remembered his trip to the seaside with his father, mother, and younger brother.

***

He was fifteen when he first saw the sea, the vast expanse of water, the blue sky, and the golden sand of the beach, where small, foaming waves crashed with the roar of the sun. A magnificent sunset as it crossed the misty line separating the gray-blue sky from the emerald-turquoise water. A line that was clearly visible only where a huge orange disc sank into the boundless surface of water, slashed by white waves. He particularly remembered the day when a tiny fishing boat, sailing somewhere far away, on the very horizon, found itself at the center of the sinking disc, half-reflected in the water. Piotr felt as if the boat were floating not on land, but on the sun. For a brief moment, he was transported to an illusory world of dreams and fairy tales. He remembered that moment to this day; it remained the most beautiful image of his childhood.

His father had promised them a trip to the seaside when Piotr was seven. His brother was a year younger. At the time, they lived in an industrial area of ​​the country, in a densely built-up town, and his father worked in one of the few remaining coal mines. One evening, as they sat in a small room in a block of flats, his father said, "Boys, I'd like to show you the sea someday. Not the kind you see on TV or in movies, but a real, roaring sea." He and his brother laughed then. "Dad, we can watch the sea on TV almost every day, it's nothing interesting. Water, water, water."

"You know, boys, television is television, but the real sea is different, it's simply real, you have to see it sometime, and then maybe you'll understand what I wanted to tell you." Piotr remembered his mother muttering, "Crazy fantasist." And she went into the kitchen. Yes, his father was sometimes a crazy fantasist.

Over time, he almost forgot about that evening. Many years passed. One day, after coming home from work, his father announced they were going to the seaside.

They were all surprised by this statement, and they accepted it, like most things their father said, with a touch of irony. In their family, everything was decided by their mother, who was perpetually dissatisfied with everything, constantly grumbling at their father for being a failure, for not being able to get anything done properly. The meager pennies she earned weren't even enough for proper food, let alone vacations or entertainment. This time, their mother simply shrugged and said, "As usual, you're throwing money away on nonsense. You were never supposed to save money."

Their father glared at her and placed four airline tickets and four vouchers for a two-week stay at a seaside resort on the table in their room. "I've decided," he said curtly. "

The plane leaves tomorrow at ten a.m. If you don't like it, you can stay home; we're going. Boys, pack your bags."

They were surprised by their father's determination, usually submissive and submitting to the will of their domineering mother.

She muttered something under her breath, but quickly packed her bags. It had been a long time since she'd done anything so quickly.

The sea, in reality, was truly something different from what she saw in movies and on television. Piotr would never forget those two weeks, and his mother seemed to have changed after their return. She was less grumpy, and she began to treat her father with a noticeable hint of respect, which, considering her personality, was a great achievement.

Now

, secretly, he was packing a bag from Beata and the children. It would contain everything he had planned for this trip, including his dreams.

This trip, as his father had promised for seven years, was a surprise, announced shortly before it happened. In fact, he'd been preparing for it for almost a year anyway. He zipped up the bag and carried it to the car.

Beata was packing her belongings and the children's belongings into several handy suitcases. Teresa was ten, and Marek was eight. They had just returned from boarding school for a three-day trip home. Piotr had planned the trip to fall on this weekend. The children were a little excited, as they always were before a departure, especially since it was a surprise.

The calendar showed February, which didn't matter much in the city under the dome where they lived, as there were no seasons. The regulated temperature and humidity were optimally adjusted to the economic needs, and none of the ordinary inhabitants of the dome bothered to consider the weather or the climatic conditions outside.

For the past two weeks, Piotr had been closely following a special online weather column that reported the weather outside the dome. This information was intended exclusively for a small, strictly defined group of scientists, and few city residents were interested. He knew he was lucky; the weather was exactly as he'd imagined.

Secretly, he'd programmed the exit gate data into his car's computer. It was late Friday afternoon when they emerged onto the busy city streets. The drive through town was uneventful. Beata was reading a newspaper, not paying much attention to their destination; she was convinced it would be one of the recreation centers on the outskirts of town. The children also showed no interest in the route; they were occupied with some comics in the backseat of the car. They arrived at the gate, as planned, in the evening.

"So, transfer," he announced stoically.

Beata looked at him in surprise.

"What have you figured out?"

"Surprise. You'll see." And to avoid further questions, he pretended to be intently searching for a parking space in the vast and nearly empty parking lot in front of the exit lock.

They were already expected there. The representative of the travel agency where he'd booked the trip pulled up alongside in a special car.

"Do you have the required documents for leaving the dome?"

"Yes, here are our documents, and here's my external driver's license.

" "Excuse me, but I have to scan them and have them checked. The outside conditions are extremely difficult, and you requested a car without our driver. Therefore, we must have full security, taking responsibility for your safety. The car, as you requested, is fully equipped; of course, without heating and other equipment, you wouldn't be allowed outside at this time of year. Furthermore, the car is monitored by satellite and also has an automatic radio and an on-board telephone."

"Thank you, I've already familiarized myself with the operating instructions for these devices at home." I have to tell you, I got my first driver's license over twenty years ago, before the dome was built, and I think I remember something from that time. "

I wish you a pleasant journey and a pleasant rest. Oh, and I remind you that you must be back at the lock by 10:00 PM on Sunday. If you're late, you'll have to pay extra for the full 24 hours.

" "I know, I know. Thank you, and goodbye."

During this conversation, Beata transferred all her luggage to the waiting car. He checked to make sure his bag was also in the trunk.

He drove into the lock tunnel. The glass gates closed behind them. After a few dozen meters, he stopped the car in front of another sheet of armored frosted glass. He showed the guard his exit documents. The milky wall slowly slid aside, revealing a deep, impenetrable darkness. Beata curled up strangely in the seat next to her. The children huddled together, slightly frightened.

He turned on the car's headlights, and a sigh of relief and delight escaped everyone's lips simultaneously. The world before them was white, with a black ribbon of road in the center, disappearing somewhere far away at the edge of visibility. He drove slowly into the white darkness illuminated by their headlights. He knew the road heating would cease about ten kilometers from the dome, which rose like a nearly vertical, milky-gray wall behind their yards.

The headlights illuminated the surrounding darkness, revealing a wide road on both sides, densely covered with trees and shrubs covered in several centimeters of fluffy snow. He drove slowly, turning on all available lights. They admired the unique beauty of the snow-covered trees surrounding them. The children were completely speechless, their noses glued to the windows; they had never seen such enchanting images before. A stack of comic books lay on the backseat, their appeal diminished by the winter landscape unfolding outside.

"Dad, is this all real, or is it just a 3D movie?" Marek asked.

"You can check if you want." Piotr smiled over his shoulder at his son. "If I remember the map correctly, we'll be able to pull into the parking lot in about five kilometers. But I warn you, it's really freezing outside. Almost eight degrees below zero. I advise you to unzip my travel bag; you'll find warm jackets and hats there."

The children rushed to the luggage compartment of their vehicle.

"You'll need something warmer too," he turned to Beata. "And we all definitely need warm shoes if we want to go outside. Special snow boots are also in my bag."

They noticed the parking lot, almost all at once. On the right side of the road, amidst dense bushes and beautifully snow-covered trees, a small, rectangular patch of heated asphalt stood black. Piotr slowly veered off the road and stopped the car almost in the middle of it. They could get out of the vehicle without stepping into the snow. Marek and Teresa opened both doors simultaneously and jumped out onto the asphalt.

"Oh, damn it!" "You're right, Dad." "It's terribly cold." They exclaimed almost simultaneously.

"Eh! I'm going back inside," Marek decided.

"Me too!" Teresa chimed in.

Meanwhile, Beata pulled tall snow boots for everyone from Piotr's enormous bag.

"Put these on, you'll get cold feet." She handed the children their boots.

"Mom, it's not worth it, it's freezing cold anyway, and I'm getting in." Marek was already opening the car door when a giant snow puppet landed on his back. Piotr deliberately aimed so the snow wouldn't get under the boy's collar.

"No, what are you—" Beata didn't finish her sentence as another snowball sprayed onto her hip. She ran to a snowdrift lying at the edge of the parking lot.

"Just don't think you'll get away with it," she called to Piotr with a clear note of amusement in her voice.

"Marek, Teresa, help me, we'll teach him a lesson, don't tease him."

The children clearly enjoyed the game their parents had initiated. Piotr pretended to run away, dodging the onslaught of snow projectiles. He paused occasionally to reach for another puppet, which landed on the back or head of one of the attacking three. The snow was fluffy, and it was difficult to form a more dangerous ball in such a frosty air. They were light, fluffy, and posed no threat whatsoever, but the fun was fantastic. Tired and soaked, they ignored the thin streams of water seeping down their collars from the melting snow on their heated bodies.

"Well, I give up. You've won. Hail to the winners! But now it's over. Dry off the snow and water thoroughly, and we'll move on." Piotr decisively put an end to the fun.

"That was fun, you know, Dad, I never thought it was so much fun to play in the snow."

The car's efficient heater quickly dried the wet heads of all four of them, and the blushes lingered on their faces for a long time.

The heated section of the road ended not far behind the parking lot. Now only the snow, swept aside, marked the course of the road.

Thankfully, it wasn't raining. Piotr's thoughts drifted back to when not only were the cities not covered with snow domes and the roads not heated, but all traffic outside the cities moved along roads that were not properly cleared of snow.

He remembered how, shortly after passing his driving test, he had once driven with his parents to a town over three hundred kilometers away. His mother's brother lived there. She had decided they would go to his place for the holidays. Shortly before the holidays, a heavy, dense snow began to fall. Roads, covered in a thick layer of white powder, disappeared among the fields. Although special services had begun clearing the main routes, driving on such prepared roads required considerable skill.

They left late in the evening, after his father returned from work. Dusk fell before they could leave the city. Snow fell again heavily. Traffic was light on the sparsely used road to the tiny town nestled in the vast plain, and even the road crews rarely passed by. A narrow road tunnel, carved through drifts, raised its snowy walls above the car. Enormous snowflakes, falling majestically, swirled slowly in the headlights. The illusion of immersive depth terrified him. At times, he lost his grip on reality. An illusory tunnel of limitless space opened before him, created from a mass of swirling whiteness beyond his senses. The unreal tunnel drew him into another dimension. He felt as if the road he was traveling on would suddenly disappear, and he and his car would be suspended in the white depths of cosmic emptiness. There was something fascinating and terrifying about this illusion, something with a narcotic power. He would blink rapidly, and the world would take shape again, only to transform into a drug-induced vision a moment later. He would remember that journey for a long time. For years to come, the memory of it terrified him.

Today, although the road was already covered in a layer of snow, and drifts over a meter high rose on the shoulders, he drove confidently and calmly. The vehicle's headlights, much brighter than the car from his memories, revealed the smallest details of the landscape he was passing. Although he drove slowly, the road was quickly receding. He was alone on a route cleared of snow, probably just for him, or for a few cars, which, like him, had chosen this unusual kind of weekend getaway. After several dozen kilometers, the road began to rise in gentle curves. A few hundred meters before the intersection where he was supposed to turn, an image of the place appeared on the map on the small screen of the on-board computer. Pulsing in delicate green, it indicated the correct route. The route became increasingly narrower and steeper. After rounding another bend, a small clearing with a wooden house in the center came into view.

The sloping roof, finished with carved natural wood at the gables, was covered with a thick layer of fluffy snow. Narrow four-step wooden steps led to a tiny porch beneath the roof, supported by wooden pillars. The driveway in front of the house and the stairs were clear of snow. A spacious garage adjoined the opposite wall, invisible from the road.

Piotr stopped the car in front of the house.

"Well, we're here. Everyone grab your luggage and come inside. I'll personally handle whatever remains." He was clearly pleased, observing the surprised expressions on Beata and the children's faces. Beata glanced alternately between him and the house, as if unsure if she should actually get out of the car.

"Dad, where's the luggage conveyor belt... and are you even sure it's here?

" "I'm absolutely sure of that." Piotr laughed, amused by Teresa's question.

The luggage lay on the floor of the small living room just inside the front door. He carried in the remaining bags from the car. A natural fire crackled merrily in the wide fireplace on the wall opposite the door. The fireplace, lined with cream marble streaked with darker veins, took up almost the entire center of the wall between two stylized, narrow sideboards. On a wooden shelf that topped the hearth and formed the base of a massive chimney, slender candles burned in two five-branched candlesticks. Along with the flames from the hearth, they illuminated the living room with their flickering light. The children stood enraptured, admiring this unusual phenomenon.

In both side walls of the alcove, doors led to tiny corridors: to the right to the bathroom, and to the left to the kitchen. Stairs led up from both hallways, converging above the living room in front of the doors to the two attic bedrooms.

Beata was examining the kitchen equipment with interest. From the attic, they heard the patter of children's feet.

"How do you like it?" he asked Beata.

"I haven't seen appliances like this in ages. I wonder if I can still use them." I looked into that cupboard; it's a cold room. We had something like this in our house when I was a child. I think we called it a refrigerator. There are all sorts of things in there; it looks like we'll have to prepare our own meals.

" "Well, I hope not entirely alone. I think Marek and Teresa will help us. I think it will be a new and interesting experience for them. They've never encountered anything like this before.

" "Well, we have to see what we can do with it.

" "Mom, Dad, there are these strange wooden beds with something furry on them, I think for covering them. "

Teresa and Marek ran down the stairs, shouting excitedly.

"And next to each one is this strange, shaggy rug, like it has paws on it, but it's cool!" And the door doesn't open by itself, you have to press something first, and the light doesn't come on by itself when you enter. There are special buttons on the wall.

"I saw a house like that in a movie once, so I know where everything is.

" "I saw it too, so I showed him how to turn on the light.

" "But, I showed you how to open that door.

" "Great, just don't argue, you'll see many more interesting things. Now, please go to the bathroom and wash your hands. We need something to eat, and of course, we'll watch everything one by one, calmly.

" "See how happy they are?

" "Have you already paid for it, or will we be paying it off for the next few years? This trip is a fortune." Beata, as usual, was realistic.

"Don't worry, honey. Remember how I told you I had this project to do that I was expecting a good deal of extra money for?

" "Well, but you didn't mention anything after that; I thought it wouldn't work out.

" "It did, it worked out, and even better than I expected. I got it done quickly and efficiently. I still had some money left in my account, despite that trip.

" "I have to admit, you can surprise me sometimes.

" "You know, the water doesn't just flow here; you have to twist these strange cubes over the tap." Teresa ran over with her hands still wet, eager to show off her new discovery.

"And if you twist one, the water comes out warm, and if you twist the other, the water comes out cold." Marek followed his sister with another revelation.

Beata and Piotr looked at the children, then at each other, and both burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, all the taps used to work this way, but you don't remember that anymore."

"I remember how surprised I was when my grandfather told me he still remembered the days before television. He told me he remembered going to neighbors' houses to watch a movie on TV. Apparently, even several families would sometimes gather to watch a black-and-white film on a small screen like your notebook. I was as surprised as you are by today's discoveries. Especially since I no longer remember a time without color television, computers, and personal phones. Well, now, let's have dinner.

" "Where's the feeder?

" "I'm so sorry, we also have appliances from over half a century ago. Sit down at the table and I'll prepare the food.

" "Oh my, those chairs are wooden, they must be just an imitation, don't look, it's real wood.

" "Hey, Mom, what are you doing?!

" I'm cutting bread with a knife, just like I used to when I was little.

"Don't joke, where are the ready-made slices?

" "They'll be here soon, after I cut them.

" "Let me try it, I want to cut it like that too.

" "Try it."

"Oh, mine didn't turn out as even as yours, but I've never tried it before.

" "Let me try it too. It's really not that simple.

" "My dears, maybe enough of these attempts, we won't eat it all and it will dry out.

" "We'll throw it in the air freshener then.

" "I'm afraid we won't find such a device here.

" "Oh, and what's that soft stuff and those little rolls, Mom?

" "The soft stuff, as you say, is butter and the little rolls are sausage. We'll make sandwiches out of it.

" "Mom, don't tell me food used to look like that. It would take a lot of time to make regular food out of it. Who ever did that?"

"Everyone had to make their own food, and we called them sandwiches. Look, you have to spread butter on that slice of bread you cut. Slice the sausage into thin slices and place it on top. You can add something to decorate and enhance the flavor, like this. Well, try it, how do you like it?

" "Myy chy, it's even nice, it tastes better than the breakfast sandwiches at the boarding school. I can make myself another one like that... well, what did you call it a sandwich?

" "Of course. If you want, you can put a slice of that yellow cheese on the butter, or spread what's in those jars—this is honey, this is jam.

" "Hey, this is actually fun. If you want, I can make some for you too.

" "Come on, I want to try some too."

"If it makes you happy, I'd like one with cheese and one with jam." Piotr looked meaningfully at Beata.

"For me, please prepare one with sausage, and another with honey." Beata chimed in.

They stood to the side, watching Teresa and Marek become increasingly adept at slicing, spreading, and preparing the meal.

"Yeah, well, there's definitely no Cola Colada here either. I wonder what we'll be drinking.

" "I have a better idea than Cola Colada. I saw a few kinds of fresh fruit. Maybe we should juice it?

" "No, so we have to squeeze the juice?

" "You have to squeeze it here. Just like before.

" "I already have a feeling we'll see something interesting again."

After a short search, Beata pulled a manual juicer out of the cabinet. Piotr, meanwhile, had sliced ​​a few plump oranges.

"Maybe I'll do that." Piotr expertly squeezed the juice and poured it into the glasses Beata had prepared. The children tasted the contents warily.

"You know, it tastes even better than the one we get in cartons. Can I have another glass?

" "Of course." As much as you can drink, and it tastes better because it's completely fresh and natural.

"They've eaten and drank, so wash up and go to sleep, because more surprises await you in the morning. Oh, your bedroom is the one painted pink.

" "Oh, I don't think we'll be able to sleep.

" "I suggest you try. I'd prefer you were well rested and full of energy tomorrow.

" "Good night."

They stood side by side in the cramped hallway, watching Teresa and Marek disappear up the narrow stairs, whispering fiercely.

Beata reentered the kitchen.

"It's lucky we have a dishwasher here, otherwise you'd have to help with the washing up, but as it is, I'll put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher myself.

" "You're truly generous. Thank you, ma'am." Piotr bowed dramatically.

"Just don't think you'll miss all the work. Go to the living room and prepare an interesting drink with a bit of alcohol."

"You hit the nail on the head. That's exactly what I intended, sweetheart. First, I'll clear away the luggage, as most of it is still lying in the middle of the floor." He brushed aside her wavy hair and gently brushed his lips against the nape of her neck, just behind her ear. He felt a slight shiver run through her body.

***

He moved all the bags to a small wardrobe adjacent to the bathroom. In the left corner, opposite the entrance door, in one of the cupboards, he found a well-stocked bar. Among the many bottles of the strangest shapes, full of colorful, unfamiliar liqueurs, he found a bottle filled with a thick, emerald liquid. Peppermint liqueur, that was what he was looking for. He filled two delicate porcelain cups with strong espresso coffee, leaving a little space. In each, he poured a large spoonful of melted chocolate and added a small amount of cream. He finished it off with a small glass of peppermint liqueur. He placed the cups on saucers and set them on the marble shelf in front of the fireplace.

He added two large logs to the fire in the fireplace. In front of the fireplace, he placed both of the spacious armchairs, upholstered in natural woolen leather, that had previously stood against the side walls. They now faced each other, their backs slightly angled toward the door. He sat down in one of them. He placed his cup of coffee on the armrest of the armchair. He placed his outstretched legs on the extension of the marble shelf. He rested his head on the high back of the armchair. He closed his eyes. It felt very good. After a moment, Beata took the same position in the other armchair, taking the coaster in her left hand, the cup in her right, and sipped the hot coffee in small sips.

"You know, that coffee turned out well; I've never had it like this before.

" "It's my father's recipe," he replied without opening his eyes. "I always wanted to try it, but never had the opportunity. I never saw him and my mother drinking anything like it either. Apparently, when my father was trying to earn money abroad, someone offered him something like it." He was so delighted with this recipe that he often talked about it. He kept repeating it, but I'd never seen him make coffee this way. I just wanted to try it. I'm glad you like it.

She placed the nearly empty cup on the marble shelf, walked slowly over, and stood behind his seat. He felt gentle, warm hands on his shoulders. With slow, soft movements, she massaged his shoulders and neck.

"That drive must have tired you out. I don't think you remember the last time you drove a vehicle on your own."

"No, I was so excited about what I had planned and carried out that I didn't feel any fatigue. As for driving, I had to take a special exam. The insurance company wouldn't take a chance without checking my skills, and unfortunately, without insurance, we couldn't even dream of this trip." He placed his hands on hers. She leaned over his shoulder, trying to reach his lips with his. He turned his head slightly. Their lips met. The initial gentle brush turned into a long, passionate kiss. Without breaking the kiss, she sat on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, while his fingers slowly caressed her hair.

"Do you think they're asleep already?" she asked.

"After these sensations, they certainly are." He whispered in her ear, gently taking it between his lips.

"Come on!" She pulled him along. "I've always wanted to make love to you on that soft, fluffy bear fur on the floor."

Freshly added logs illuminated the living room with a flickering glow that played on their slowly sweating, entwined bodies, pulsating with passion. The natural warmth of the living flame deepened the bliss in which they sank ever deeper.

***

The morning dawned sunny and frosty. He was awakened by a ray of sunlight tracing his face. He opened his eyes, slightly surprised by the scenery. He quickly remembered where he was when he felt Beata's head nestled against his chest. The room was warm. He realized that the children were sleeping in the bedroom next door. He covered her naked body with a thin blanket.

He dressed quickly and, whistling softly, ran down to the kitchen. A moment later, a few rashers of bacon were sizzling merrily, thrown into the pan. He cracked a few eggs into them and mixed them lightly. Three for us and two for the children, he thought. Stirring the scrambled eggs with one hand, he poured milk from the cartons into glasses with the other. When the meal was almost ready, he pulled a huge frying pan from the cupboard, which he'd noticed the day before. As he climbed the stairs, he banged on it with a metal ladle. He made a terrible racket, simultaneously shouting loudly, "Get up, you sleepyheads! Breakfast!"

Marek and Teresa peeked out of the room, rubbing their sleepy eyes. "What's going on? Why are you making such a fuss?

" "Breakfast is waiting!" "Rinse your mouths with cold water. Brush your teeth with warm water and run to the kitchen for breakfast. If you don't hurry, I'll eat it all myself!"

Beata also poked her head out the door.

"You have terrible ideas. I'll be down in a moment."

He returned to the kitchen, cut four enormous slices of bread, and prepared four portions of scrambled eggs. He placed a glass of milk next to each. He surveyed the table with satisfaction. He looked around the kitchen, placing a large red apple next to each portion. When they began to arrive, the table was ready for them and looked truly impressive.

"Enjoy your meal. This is scrambled eggs and bacon."

"Hey, Dad, this looks strange. I've never eaten anything like this before." Marek looked at his plate suspiciously.

"Neither do I. Are you sure it's edible?" Teresa also looked uncertain.

"Then it's high time you tried it. I guarantee it's edible."

Initially hesitantly, the portions began to disappear at a dizzying pace.

"Maybe you could get a job in our cafeteria? Then the food we get would finally be edible." Teresa spoke with her mouth full. "You must have learned to cook somewhere, Dad.

" "Of course. I can also boil water without burning and hard-boiled eggs." He looked at them very seriously.

Beata burst out laughing.

"Well, you really are a titan of the kitchen.

" "Since everyone's eaten, I invite you to the living room."

From the wide-open bag, Piotr pulled out colorful, fluffy jumpsuits and strange high boots.

"Oh my, are you trying to send us into space, Dad?"

"I'm not that bad yet, but in this weather, you'll need these outfits. I'm sure of it. Well, let's quickly jump in," he told them to put on his snowsuit, and meet them in front of the house. Don't forget your hats, or your ears will get cold. I'm waiting!"

In front of the house, Piotr handed each of the children a strange, flat, pear-shaped plastic object.

"Now, I invite you to the top of that hill." He pointed to a small rise behind the house and started running up the hill.

The climb from the house wasn't too steep, but they quickly reached the top. On the opposite side, a magnificent view of the surrounding mountains unfolded. Low, domed hills, covered here and there with small patches of forest, stretched to the horizon. On their slopes, they could make out scattered cottages, remarkably similar to the one they had just come from.

"Dad, does anyone live in these houses?

" "Certainly not anymore. These are all vacation homes now." Maybe someone from the center still lives there, but people used to live here just like we do in our town today.

"So how did they get to work or school from here? It must have taken them forever.

" "It wasn't that bad, although it certainly wasn't easy for them. At first, they did it on foot, sometimes on horseback, later some had cars, and they often worked by cultivating their own plots of land around their homes. They raised cattle and sheep. If you're interested, there are books in the cottage, still paper ones, about the history of this area; you can read them after dinner. Now everyone sits on their own pear, like this. They push off with their feet and we meet up for a weeeeeen. Cheeeeeeeee!

The fun was delicious. After several hours of downhill skiing and arduous ascents, they returned home exhausted and happy. Piotr and Beata quickly prepared a delicious meal, after which everyone immersed themselves in reading. In the evening, after dinner, Piotr suggested a walk up the hill once again.

In the cloudless sky, the moon shone in its full glory, its enormous disk approaching new moon.

The snow crunched pleasantly underfoot, and the moonlit valley looked mysterious and beautiful. In the frosty air, puffs of steam accompanied every breath. Piotr discreetly glanced at his watch; only he knew the detailed itinerary.

The first explosions slightly frightened both the children and Beata. Only when colorful fireworks burst into the sky above them, bathing the entire area in a shimmering, multicolored glow, did the delights continue. Each set of the well-prepared display evoked a new wave of delight.

On the neighboring hills throughout the area, they could see tiny silhouettes of people in the light of colorful flashes