– Kasia, do you want to visit Ms. Ela? – asked me Olek while I was scanning the old photos of our grandparents and great-grandparents he had brought from the attic.

– Ms. Ela? – I asked surprised, lifting up my head from the scanner, which in recent days became my hand luggage.

– Yes, Ms. Ela – he confirmed – the one that gave you a little money in the summer for your bike trip. Remember?

I remembered in one second. Continue reading “Ms. Ela”

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