Michal Lapinski Studio
SHORT STORIES
This page features texts of various origins. Most of the stories describe events in the life of a certain Rafał Brzeski: three of which took place during the communist era (these are not yet translated), and the next two from another life and written in a different language (those are originals). It's safe to assume that these stories, set in the real context, may represent literary transformations of the author's own experiences.
The last, brief story refers directly to an event in the author's life - this time to one of his dreams.
Rafał couldn't find his place in their post-war apartment in Łódź. While it was the first house he'd ever fully remembered as a child, and therefore should have evoked a cozy, family nest, he couldn't truly become accustomed to it. Or perhaps the apartment refused to be assimilated, domesticated, or appropriated. Perhaps it was precisely the idea of appropriation? Although it undoubtedly belonged to them: it had been officially assigned to his father because of his military service...
Rafał Brzeski stood before a portrait of Stalin. He was standing guard in the school hallway with his friend Jacek. Both had been selected from their scout troop to perform this honorable duty. They were to pay tribute to the great leader, whose death had plunged not only the people of the USSR into mourning but also the people of Poland...
It was early morning when Rafał set out onto the lake. He liked to do this whenever he managed to wake up early enough. Everyone was still asleep. He got into his kayak and pushed off from the shore. As he paddled, he slowly immersed himself in the silence and the vapors rising above the still-cool lake surface. He got into his kayak and pushed off from the shore. As he paddled, he slowly immersed himself in the silence and the vapors rising above the still-cool lake surface. The sun was low, casting no shadows yet...
It was a chilly November morning. One could feel the first icy bites of an early winter. Alex was coming home from his night shift as an ambulance doctor. He was doing these shifts only because he needed some extra money, his job at the government-run clinic was not paying very well. This time the night hadn't been too bad. The usual stuff, food poisoning, renal colic, a child with a fever and anxious parents. A couple of serious cases that had to be taken to hospital. And just one death certificate ...
What a gorgeous day at the beach it was! We were sitting in a circle in our beach chairs and relaxing. It was getting hot in the midday sun but we did not mind, still refreshed from our swim in the crisply sparkling water. The light refreshing breeze coming from the ocean carried the laughter of children. And the food was arriving, just in time! Karl, ever so practical, had got the barbie going while we swam, and now we didn't have to wait too long ...
There are essentially two systems. They become tangible and visible in the middle of the night. Which doesn't mean they only exist then. After all, they can be contained in the four-dimensional cyberpsychic space. But there, they exist in latent form, and their shape remains unknown to us. One can assume they multiply and replicate there secretly...