Polish gothic- Dolnośląskie edition
There's malls everywhere in Wrocław, but there's nothing in them. They're empty, customers walking around slowly, listening to the static. They were looking for the nearest h&m, but there's only a cinema here, unfortunately. Don't worry, they're cheap on Tuesdays. Nobody knows why it's only 14zł and what's the additional price, but you think you may...
The bus is not arriving anytime soon. Other people are getting nervous, but you just kick back and relax. It'll come around, someday.
There's a train station near your house. There's nobody around, there's no trains. The ticket office stands shut. Yet an old woman is always waiting. She's not lost, she tells you. It'll come around, someday. She says.
You don't ever see Sky Tower- it's like it's not there, but you know it is, it always is, looking over the city. Yet you don't see it. Maybe it's in the clouds, maybe it's not. You dont ask.
There's cheaps of tourists in the city centre. You hear the Germans say "Breslau" and you grin mischievously. That name is inaccurate, there's a much older one that they're not aware of, and they'll never be.
Asians are taking photos of the gnomes everytime they see one. They don't know that they're all the same? Don't they notice it?
Curious children knock on the little door near the church of saint Elżbieta- didn't their mother teach them not to do that? You tell them they won't like what's inside. It's the truth.
You spend two hours on the bus everyday. You hate the bus, and you'd much more like to ride a tram; they're clean, fast, aren't ever late. You complain about buses. Your friends complain about trams. None of you have ever been on a tram.
On Sundays, you always buy chałwa from the same Ukrainian guy. You know it's not real, just like him, but you still pay. He's nice.
You go on a trip to Karkonosze. You've been in Karpacz, Jelenia Góra, Szklarska Poręba and the other places a million times, and you'll visit more. There's Liczyrzepa in the mountains, there's ghosts in the castles and creatures in every abandoned mine. You pretend you don't notice how they're staring at you.
You meet some Czech people on the track- as always. You wink at them, because they know exactly what's going on. They're a w a r e. Just like you.
On the 29th of September, there's a big fair in Jelenia Góra, and everybody finds some antiques to buy. You don't know how, but every year manage to get the things that feel the most suspicious and haunted.
There's exactly 118 bridges in Wrocław, and you know the name of every single one, but you somehow don't remember the five rivers that flow under them. Weird.
There's now a church on the top of Ślęża, and you know the Old Gods aren't pleased. "What have these fools done?" You ask yourself everytime you see the outline of the mountain in the morning mist.
There's places like Legnica and Smolec, Środa Śląska, Ząbkowice, Góra. You know you have relatives in some of them, one of your classmates is from Smolec. You've never seen any of those places, now that you think about it. Do they even exist? You're unsure.
The letters WKS are carved on the insides of your eyelids, you constantly see red, white and green. They're yelling near the stadium, but they don't even know who's playing. You lower the blinds. You don't want any trouble.
You step outside. The air feels fresh and crisp, it's the most beautiful morning this winter. The board on the bus stop says "stan powietrza- okropny " again, and you sigh, slipping on your gas mask.
You joke about 'Trójkąt' with your friends, but neither of you are brave enough to actually face it.
