Wong left for
Wong was up at 5am to make his train. Michal and I got up to see him off despite Wong’s horror and distaste at seeing us refuse to go back to bed, insisting on being up. That’s the way it is – Slavic hospitality – sometimes uncomfortable, often unnecessary. Whilst tying his shoes he grinned and said, “I left you a parting gift Michal” pointing to the stack of dirty dishes left over from his hearty breakfast of sausage and egg (“do Poles have big breakfasts before a train journey?” Wong asked). The house will be empty without him. And me. I am heading off to Debno to see my parents.
2 comments:
I took it for granted that I can tell between raw egg & boiled egg by holding it. But I'm not so good at picking half-boiled & hard-boiled eggs.
OMG, Sydney is so cold! Not used to this as I was over your way last year... Think that orange jumper will make its debut in OZ soon...
:D
The egg is clearly a metaphor for me: hard-boiled.
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