The next morning, Wiktoria woke up in an excellent mood. Her eyes widened, and a huge smile spread across her face. That day, she felt like taking action. She returned to Wrocław. She needed to find a job as soon as possible. After all, she needed a steady source of income to pay for the apartment she was renting from an elderly woman. Wiktoria had her own place. A small studio apartment. A large room, another slightly smaller one with a bed she rested on, a kitchen, and a bathroom. As soon as she arrived in Wrocław, she began to consider living with her parents for a while, but she immediately dismissed the idea, deciding it would be too much of a burden. Besides, her age wouldn't allow such a move. She preferred to avoid living at the expense of others.
Wiktoria's parents didn't even realize their daughter had returned to Wrocław, to her home. They were absolutely convinced she was currently strolling the streets of Gdańsk with her beloved Marek. How naive they were, she thought, with a wry smile.
The blond girl threw off the covers and immediately got out of bed. She wandered towards the kitchen. She decided to brew herself some tea – the kind she always loved: fruit tea with cinnamon. She poured water into the electric kettle and turned it on. She opened the cupboard and took out her beloved red mug with the white lettering "Nescafe." Inside, she placed a bag of tea leaves and other plants that gave the drink a wonderful aroma. She added a teaspoon of sugar. When the water reached one hundred degrees Celsius, the kettle automatically turned off, and Wiktoria poured boiling water over the tea bag and sugar. She gently set the kettle aside, then grabbed a teaspoon and stirred the entire, wonderful brew. After a few moments, when the tea had taken on a distinct color, she used a spoon to remove the now-unusable tea bag. She threw it in the trash can.
She grabbed a red mug and walked toward the small living room, also called, inappropriately, the great room. She placed the exquisite brew on the wooden table and then became completely absorbed in searching for the TV remote. When she finally found it, she pressed one of the buttons with wild satisfaction. The TV turned on with a distinctive click. Wiktoria sat cross-legged and hopefully flipped through the channels... She thought she'd finally find something to her liking. Something that would interest her. Unfortunately, among the five channels, there wasn't a single one that could even catch her attention. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Oh, I think I'm expecting too much from this stupid device, Wiktoria thought, and pressed the red button on the remote. In a second, another long-legged beauty, gracefully feasting on a "Bakoma" yogurt, disappeared.
Wiktoria reached for the tea. She seemed to have concluded that languishing on the couch in front of the TV was pointless these days. So, immediately after drinking the wonderfully soothing beverage, she decided to go to the bathroom, take her daily bath, then get dressed and go out. It would be best to buy the daily newspaper and look for job offers. Perhaps she could find something substantial with a decent salary? There was no point in waiting, she had to act – and just as she thought, she did. She quickly finished her tea and clumsily made her way towards the creaking door.
She threw off her silk nightgown. She opened the shower door. Inside, she hesitantly turned on the hot and cold taps. She poured a soothing stream over herself. With quick movements, she lathered her entire body with scented shower gel, then rinsed everything off and stepped out. She dried herself with a green towel, observing her movements in the large, oval mirror. Her body had changed so much. Just a few years ago, she had been a stocky girl with a baby face. And now, the mirror showed an image of someone completely different from six years ago. The only thing that hadn't changed was her height. She was still five feet six and a half, something she didn't regret, despite appearances.
She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel. With tiny, quick steps, she ran across the hallway to the bedroom. There, she shed what was covering her and with a flourish, flung open the wardrobe, from which she hastily pulled out black jeans and a matching sweater. Furthermore, a pair of panties, a lace bra from Triumph, and navy blue cotton socks had disappeared from the top shelf. She put them all on and returned to the bathroom to apply subtle yet effective makeup. She also needed to fix her hair a bit.
Wiktoria slammed the door behind her and locked it. The echo of her heels echoed throughout the stairwell. The girl paid no attention.
She flung open the door and within moments was outside. Fresh air blasted directly onto her radiant face. She smiled blissfully. It was so beautiful… The leaves on the trees, which had proudly displayed their greenery just moments ago, were now orange, yellow, and even red. Wiktoria glanced at them, and a single thought flashed through her mind: "It's already autumn…"
"Good morning! I'd like a 'Wyborcza'," Wiktoria said as soon as she leaned her head against the window of the Ruch newsstand. The woman sitting there gave her a quick glance and then casually handed her the newspaper.
"You're due a small amount, dear lady!" she said in a squeaky voice. The fair-haired woman dug the amount out of her wallet and handed it to the woman. Then, thanking her, she hurriedly took the newspaper and walked briskly to the nearest bench. She settled comfortably on it and glanced at the front page. No, there are definitely no ads here, she thought, smiling pityingly.
She leafed through "Gazeta Wyborcza" and after a few pages, her eyes landed on a short ad: "We're looking for a Polish teacher. For more information, call (858-314-305)." This must be something for me, she thought, and immediately pulled out her cell phone and punched in the number provided.
"Hello, my name is Wiktoria Janecka. I'm calling about a job," Wiktoria said as soon as she heard someone's voice on the phone.
"Then I invite you to an interview," the woman replied.
"And when would one be?"
"Thursday at noon. Are you okay?"
Wiktoria thought for a moment, then replied without a shadow of a doubt,
"Yes, yes, of course."
"Krucza Street 32. Private Secondary School No. 2. The meeting will take place in Room 13. Please bring your CV. Any other questions?" the woman stammered in one breath.
"No... I already know everything, thank you very much for the information.
" "So, goodbye, ma'am," the woman huffed, and immediately hung up the phone.
What a strange woman, Wiktoria thought, and then wandered back home.
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