this cat is such a top cat. Karol shouts: “look what the cat’s doing again!” and I turn into a ‘catarazzo’. looks like trees are easier to handle when compared with windscreens:)
ten kot jest taką osobistością. Karol krzyczy: “patrz, co kocisko znowu wyprawia!”, a ja się zamieniam w ‘catarazzo’. wygląda na to, że z drzewami można radzić sobie łatwiej niż szybami samochodowymi:)
commentI don’t pass anybody every day. not that I’m aware of it at least. some people I saw in June:
a woman with grey hair. sat next to me on the train to London. immediately fished out a big pad and started writing. it was a letter and began with “dear Kathryn”. by the time I got off, she’d written three pages. at times whispering to herself, as if dictating. as if the speed of her hand wasn’t good enough for her thoughts.
a nurse called Norma stuck the needle in my left arm. it hurt (unlike the previous times).
”squeeze your fingers,” she ordered and I obeyed. release, squeeze again – like a simple dance routine. Norma looked away and her colleague asked if I was fine.
”has blood circulation anything to do with the speed of flow?” I answered with a question.
”no, it depends on how the needle is placed and it also helps when you’re relaxed.”
”but it’s a very narrow vein,” Norma returned offering me a piece of self-knowledge.
still, the room emptied and, by nature or not, my blood was not in a hurry.
”it’s really quiet now, are you finishing soon?”
”no, we’re breaking for lunch, for an hour.” she pressed the needle harder to speed up. just when I was wondering whether it was possible for it to pierce my vein through, it hurt even more. I hissed. surprising myself and surprising Norma.
”it’s almost over,” she assured me. and it was.
tea and biscuits on NHS followed. in a company of a girl who had fainted.
i paint glass.
the vases used to be coffee jars. i removed the labels and upcycled them.
the glass lost its quality due to many visits to a dishwasher so i covered its scratched surface with stripes.
things you said