Joanna

He entered the room and looked at the photograph on the desk. A pleasant memory stirred within him. How long it had been since they last saw each other. At least, that was the impression he had. All he had left was this. The previously wretched and meaningless photograph now offered him his only moments of joy in the dreary life he led. He lived with a few friends in a rented room in a Poznań suburb. He worked part-time at a company because he still had two years of college left, and he couldn't imagine returning home. After telling his parents he intended to continue his education, and after their violent reaction: his mother's sobs, his father's rages, and his little Martusia's excessive surprise. Before that, he had lived with them on the farm. But he felt he didn't fit the bill. His father had always wanted his son to take over the farm, and now he suddenly felt like a philosopher. He preferred not to think about it. Those days were behind him. But now, he had lost the last person who had ever been kind to him. Who knows, maybe even the most important. When he looked at the photo, all the moments they'd spent together seemed so distant. He couldn't believe only two weeks had passed. He couldn't believe that missing Joanna would gnaw at him so fervently. He didn't want him to care so much about her, he didn't want to face it. He didn't have the strength or courage to admit openly that those evenings spent together by the fireplace brought him inexpressible joy and were more than just pleasant, business-related chats. She knew it too. That's why he didn't want to think about the end of the vacation, because it was so pleasant. She immediately guessed this would be an interesting acquaintance. She'd observed him when he came to Masuria with a small group of his peers. She liked him, so uncertain, as if he lived in the wrong place and at the wrong time. They became friends and, over time, got to know each other better. But the vacation passed very quickly, and unfortunately, they had to part.

Michał sat down on the rickety couch and picked up the photo. He began to look at it, to revel in the memories. He liked to daydream. But he wasn't in the mood right now. He didn't want to leave his daydreams just as he was about to go to the office. He set the frame on the shelf, which had gathered dust, and walked to the door. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He stood there, gazing at his Asia as if she were a deity. He remembered best the purple scarf with a silver motif she always wore. Finally, he opened the door wide to get some air. He was breathing heavily, as if a stone were lodged in his throat. He sighed, after a moment, turned the key, and slowly shuffled down the hallway to the exit. The strong, still summer sun shone pleasantly on his face, but he didn't notice. He was completely absorbed in his dreams, and at that moment, he was floating somewhere near our galaxy, oblivious to the people watching him with strange smiles. He reached the gleaming building, glanced through the glass doors, and then climbed inside. His office was immediately inspected, as he hadn't been fulfilling his assigned duties lately. No one knew what had happened to him, as he had always been a conscientious employee, even for a part-time job. Meanwhile, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. It was a good thing his boss wasn't there yet. The workday involved a lot of running around, taking and receiving orders (it was an insurance company), so the energetic twenty-year-old proved indispensable. He was often distracted, which could be considered a potential drawback, but his efficiency made up for the temporary indisposition. He fully deserved the praise, but due to his age, it was kept to a minimum, leaving him unsure whether he was performing well.

He left the office exhausted. As always, when his mind was elsewhere and he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. Today, however, he didn't care; his mind was occupied with a single thought: how to contact Joanna? He pondered this on the way home and almost noticed a car passing by. He would have waved and kept walking if he hadn't noticed a detail about the passenger. An exactly identical purple scarf flashed before his eyes. He whipped his head around, lucky for him, because the light had turned red. He ran to the car, his heart pounding. He saw the beautiful blue eyes and knew he'd made a bad choice. His Joanna had black eyes; he sometimes compared them to specks of happiness or stars, because they were constantly smiling at him. He felt a pang of disappointment and groaned like a wounded puppy. He pictured her and sank into his thoughts again, this time in the middle of the highway. Someone nudged him in the back, rousing him from his sleep. The prospect of a journey home and a life without color weighed heavily on his mind. He longed to escape this city, or at worst, visit his parents after three years away. Hell, they didn't even know if he was alive. He gazed at the streetlights with a stupid expression; a couple of lovers sat on a bench. He caught himself watching them. He imagined him and Aśka sitting like that, and something in his stomach twisted dangerously. Could it be? He didn't even know her address. Suddenly, he yearned with all his being to have her by his side, to ruffle her hair, to hug her... Only now did he clearly realize his commitment. He spent days reminiscing, daydreaming. He couldn't stop; Joanna had always been on his mind since he'd said goodbye. He couldn't bear the thought of missing her, just another friend he'd met at camp with his friends. No, no, this couldn't be, this wasn't... love? He suddenly discovered a terrible truth that haunted him even as he trudged down the dark alley to his room, to once again revel in the sight of his, well, girlfriend. He hadn't noticed the strange car in front of the house. He was mentally formulating a plan to find out about the package from the camp. Finally, he stood at the threshold of his room and turned the key, but it wouldn't turn. Who had he given the apartment key to? Oh, Jacek, one of his friends he'd been with in Masuria. He straightened up and turned the doorknob... At first, the light from the uncovered bulb dazzled him, so he began to grope, taking off his shoes as he went. He didn't notice his new shoes, purple flip-flops, so glaringly obvious that someone else was there. After a moment, he adjusted to the light and, entering the kitchen, nearly hit his head on the old-fashioned lamp hanging above the door... He froze, staring at the girl sitting at the table. Jacek stood behind him, slyly rolling his eyes and making the most innocent face he could muster in the situation. Michał continued to stand there, mouth moving silently like a fish,when she lacks water. All his limbs were paralyzed. A huge, uncontrollable smile spread across his face as the familiar glimmer of happiness appeared in Joanna's eyes. Jacek stepped out of the shadows and spoke uninvited:

"Well, you two probably know each other by now, right?" And with the air of a summer Santa Claus, he turned and left to hand out presents to the other children. A slight, sly smile played on his face...