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RetroRetro by Gary Soszynski

Time after time I realize how strongly I am attached to some things, there are few of them that I simply love. The other day my friend told me that he read the news about some guy who gave a cup he had for years for estimation. It turned out that the cup is worth two million dollars, or something like that, and the guy sold it. Wow. My friend said it’s too bad the oldest cup he has is about five years old and definitely not worth a cent. I said that, at the beginning at least, I know I would seriously be in dilemma to sell it or not, but I believe I would eventually sell it- there are just few things and possibilities I would have to think of that would just be laying in front of me, things and possibilities that were, so far, laying at the bottom of an old cup. My friend was shocked to hear that I would hesitate, even for a minute. Well, I’m shocked that an old cup can worth two million dollars.

I think that, if I had a cup that old, the cup I’ve used my whole life and drank my every coffee from it, especially the morning one, I would really have to think what exactly am I selling. (I must add that the price of that cup would even have to be higher because of pure wonder it stayed whole all those years with me.) I would feel like I’m selling memories and, call me old-fashioned, but at some degree, I would think that I’m selling integrity, of some sort. On the other hand, I can’t imagine drinking coffee from a cup that’s worth two million dollars. I would feel intimidated. It would be a sad thing to put it away in a cupboard on a shelf of its own and not use it for its purpose, to make a small shrine and think imaginative memories about things that I would have done with the money if I would have sold the cup. That would create a clutter. That’s just retro.

Flying Cloud

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Empire State Bldg.Empire State Building, NYC, by Fairchild Aerial Surveys, Inc. 

Noise comes out of the city. In the air, every recognizable sound decomposes to the messy noise. I look at the crowded city and its people going from one side of the town to the other, creating traffic jams. I would like to dive in it to see how does it feel. I embrace the metallic noise of the city to make myself heavier.

The city is stable, firm, real. It is opposite to everything I am. I admire it. It is grounded and I envy its presence. It is everything I’m not. I am changing my shape as I speak and move from one position to the other, too light to stop at one place and to resist the wind. I envy the city because it knows where it will be tomorrow. It knows it will be here tomorrow.

Summer Mornings

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Le Petit ParisienLe Petit Parisien (1952) by Willy Ronis

Summer; sweet, sweet summer. It came slowly, when the last bell in the school rang the end of last class for this year. Hooray!

There is nothing better than to wake up in the morning, early. Usually it’s enough to see my parents getting ready to go to work. They always ask me why I’m already up. When I tell them I don’t feel like sleeping and that I love the morning, they tell me I’m a little philosopher and that I never wake up this early by myself when I need to go to school. I tell them that it’s just different, summer has different light. They laugh and kiss me goodbye, leaving money for me to buy bread. And bread is a great part of summer morning’s magic.

I love fresh, still warm, French bread. Its soft scent, that contributes the magic of the morning, fills the streets. Baker has the bread on his shelf exactly at 7:10 and I’m always there at that time, first in the row. Only in summer, that is. It’s not very practical to be up that early in wintertime, I think.

I buy the bread and run back home as fast as I can, because I don’t want it to get cold. I don’t live that far from bakery, but I want to be on the safe side that bread won’t get much colder. I cut the bread carefully and put the butter gently on a thick slice of a bread, allowing the butter to melt from the warmth of bread, and I pour myself a glass of milk. Fluffy warm bread with a crispy crust is just delicious in the combination with cold milk! Looking through the kitchen window, I can see that sunrays are getting warmer. This is going to be a wonderful day.

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