piątek, 2 grudnia

Miesiąc: maj 2014

Joanna, Joaśka, Aśka. Pan Uszatek
Szkoła

Joanna, Joaśka, Aśka. Pan Uszatek

(…) To przecież tylko nicość. Jakże takie nic ma stanąć pomiędzy nami. (…) S. Barańczak, "Grażynie" 30 maja rano minie rok od śmierci Joasi Rutkowskiej i jej synka Kuby, rok od wypadku samochodowego na drodze do Gdańska, którą jechali na spływ kajakowy, rok odkąd się nie widzimy i nie rozmawiamy ze sobą, rok przemieszczania się Ich obecności stąd w wieczny punkt. Przed paroma dniami zdali swe matury wychowankowie Joasi z Jej ostatniej gimnazjalnej klasy - z Bagateli? Ostatniej nie dlatego, że zginęła, ale że chciała żyć: mieć czas, podróżować, spróbować innej pracy. Wychowawstwo wymagało całkowitego poświęcenia, i może nawet czegoś więcej. Życia czyimiś trudnymi sprawami, czasem nierozwiązywalnymi, bycia za pan brat z bezsilnością. Tu wrażliwość zwykle przechyla szalę z tego, co...
Dublin Days
Szkoła

Dublin Days

When Alice woke up in the morning, the weather was beautiful. The room was filled with sunlight and she could hear birds chirping joyfully in the trees behind the window. She yawned and stretched in bed and was just about to get up when all of a sudden she noticed a little golden key put up on her bedside table: at the sight of it, Alice froze in terror. A gaggle of voices in her head whispered leipreachán, leipreachan. She willed them sheepish but though to herself that rather she was the sheepish one. How could she not have known, what with all her late nights' work, that someone was watching? Still, her heart pounded in her ears, now vigilant. Had she overstepped the line, with her preparations and her finicky attention to the science of it all? But it was for them, she thought, ...
The Fire
Szkoła

The Fire

One of my earliest memories took place over 12 years ago. Wide-awake I lay staring at the ceiling, and for some unknown reason I could not fall asleep. Counting sheep did not help that night, and so all I did was listen to my mother’s calm and steady breath. I do not know whether it was a matter of minutes or hours, and yet the moment I began to drift off, the whole bedroom suddenly became illuminated by a golden orange color. Immediately I stood up and left my asylum of pillows and teddy bears. I ran to the window, led by curiosity. I was both amazed and frightened at the sight I saw. In the darkness there stood a burning home. The flames surrounded it from all sides, destroying everything on their path, and consuming the house slowly, until all that was left was a bare black ...