#6 COSY IN MY MIND

Because the medicine for Mia’s grandmother was expensive and Mia did not want to use the small pension of her grandmother for them, she needed another job. Then she found an offer about translator’s work. Her own grandma was not as nice as the old “grandma Zofia” and Mia would not ever call her grandma a grandma. It was just “grandmother”. No emotions, no talks, no taking care. Mia’s grandmother was a cold old lady. Mia herself was the greatest problem for her grandmother and Mia should not demand more than she got. Even if she had to work more or less hard.

In the last time, she bought some new books and schoolbooks. Her grandmother was not so happy about it and said such books could be gotten in every library. There was no necesserity to have a library at home. Yes, home sweet home, without books, without fantasy worlds and without any warm feeling. But with a history.

Mia looked at the announcement and called the number she saw there. She talked shortly and made an appointment. Of course, from the beginning she knew where she wanted to meet this guy. She never risked too much. The voice on the line was very warm and cosy. And professional. And curious. They did not have to talk for hours and they did not. On the next day, they should meet in a small and likeable place called “Casablanca”. The guy suggested meeting in “Sunshine”, one of the new clubs, but she turned it away in her proposal. She already knew that place, because she stepped in there on the very first day in Warsaw. It was in the centre, but not so obvious to find. Moreover, the atmosphere was good enough to read books. She loved books and never had a place for reading them. At home, it was impossible, because she did not feel well there. There was no possibility to read, aloud or not. At school – yeah, who is reading books at school? Such small teahouses, which you could easily find in every bigger city, were the magical places where you could sit for hours and read, read, read.

“Casablanca” was one of them, but it was even classier and at the same time young. The air smelled like true roiboos, delicious vanilla, and seductive chocolate cookies. The walls were not naked. There were modern, blue and green patterns on a sand-yellow background. The furniture had an old style and was made of real wood and not wannabe-wood. Here and there, old dried out flowers were hanging and candles on the tables had different shapes and colours. “Casablanca” was just perfect.



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