By night, she sampled dance clubs and slept with strange men; by day, she waitressed at her uncle’s restaurant; during spare hours and weekends she combed flea markets and charity shops for cheap T-shirts. White ones mostly though pale grey, bright yellow and fluorescent green were acceptable too. ‘What, more T-shirts?’ her uncle challenged her in Polish when she rolled up to work at the Café Kraków. ‘I want to stock up,’ responded Katarzyna in the same language. ‘Once I’m back in Poland …’ She shrugged and mimed fruitless searching. ‘You trying to tell me there’s no T-shirts in Poland?’ Her uncle had left Poland in 1980, and such letters as he still received from disapproving relatives had degenerated lately into lists of things you could buy in the shops of Poznań. Katarzyna tossed one of her new T-shirts into the air and deftly penetrated the sleeve-holes in free-fall with her sharp little hands.
What do You think about Some Rain Must Fall (1998)?
