Ghosts to Carry, Stories to Keep
Where memory meets the page, one moment at a time.
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Tag: Poland
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I’d walk into a classroom with a bag full of cards and props, and by the end of the lesson the whiteboard looked like a cross between a Picasso sketch and a crime-scene diagram.
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I’d safely been in Poland for perhaps five minutes, and a cardboard caricature of my past career had already beaten me to the job.
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That space carried my solitude, my hopes, my dreams, and the first sparks of who I was becoming.
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For a dear and special friend — who steadied the moment, translated the chaos, and answered the phone as if she’d been waiting for it. I’d been living in Silesia for only a few weeks, and it was the first time I felt truly out of place — I was tired that night. A bit…
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Half-awake most mornings, I found myself wondering whether they ever swapped places just to confuse the guests.
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… but why buy a watch that says POLICE?”
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Sometimes a memory returns the way snowfall does — quietly, without urgency, settling only where it’s welcome.
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A remarkable journey, unhurried, moving at a speed allowed by the weather conditions outside.
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I heard myself ask, quietly, “Is that the radio station?”
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There are photographs of that moment somewhere — me standing stiffly, wearing a jacket that didn’t quite fit, a hat with a huge feather denoting a rank I didn’t yet understand, and holding a real ceremonial sword.