... leaving only the warm air trembling in her wake
The One That Stayed / Obraz, który został
Memory in the Absence of Pixels
You don’t take photos of the air around you
The Adventures of Gary: Cycling in Gliwice
... the kind where you turn a key and a steel bar slides through the spokes with a satisfying clunk. Park, click, walk away. Utterly civilised.
Naked Ben & The Library of Buckwheat
Gruby Benek — another thoroughly Polish company named, so I was told, after a fictional chubby chef.
In Crust We Trust: Da Pizza
And when you go somewhere every week — especially when you’re a foreigner in a city where foreigners were still rare — you get noticed.
In Crust We Trust: A Short Story Memoir of Pizza
A few wore grand, floppy mushroom toques—traditional baker’s caps so oversized and ballooning they seemed to hover above their heads rather than sit on them,
Train, Street and Bus
Until that unexpected meeting.
Learning the Hard Way
So I stood by the door, doing my best to look as though this was how I preferred to travel.
The Outward Journey
The occasional tannoy announcement — delivered in a tone that suggested I should already know what was being said — drifted across the platform.
Railway Memories
Then there were the plastic seats — back-to-back rows that discouraged comfort and punished optimism. I tried one once, briefly, before realising they were designed for people who had already given in.
Ghosts to Carry, Stories to Keep 