As the two time Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry and Physics, Marie Salomea Skłodowska Curie, used to tell me in my Polish Fever Dreams as a child: “Nigdy nie kupuj Złotych Grahmów, jeśli znajdują się na trzeciej półce”; translated to - “Never buy Golden Grahams if they are on the third shelf”. Ol’ Ms. Curie always had some odd superstitions, but it saved me in a few sticky situations.
I run through the cobbled roads, the towering, jagged facades of the homes lining the street are closing in on me, and I hear him behind. Robert Lewandowski, now reaching nine or ten feet tall, is galloping towards me, closing the gap with huge strides. With each lunge he seems to grow taller, and more ferocious in his attempts to claim me. As the street caves in around me, a narrow doorway illuminates within my sight, and I squeeze through. Relief pours over me as the danger of the Leviathan Lewa fades into nothing, as if I had just escaped into another realm lightyears away from him.
I sit down at the bar, and immediately feel eyes all over me. The concerned bartender acknowledges my presence, but does not enquire about a drink. I realize that I must be a child still. The eyes release their hold on me and shift towards a boxy tv set suspended in the top corner of the bar. Torn, faded green walls and the grainy television hint that I must be watching Socrates and Zico of the great 1982 Brazilian World Cup team, but I squint and see Robert Lewandowski put another past Diego Benaglio. Five goals in Nine Minutes. He’s celebrating again. His eyes are wide. I start running, I know what’s going to happen. I’ve been here before. I’ve seen him crawl out of that TV set before. Dangerous cobbled Roads, the houses closing in, and he’s getting bigger.
I feel the fear quickly suffocating my newfound consciousness. I understand I’m in a loop, yet I’m powerless to break it. Slowing down to think, to even breathe means he will catch me. I keep running. As the fear subsumes the last inkling of awareness, a voice suddenly fills my mind. It’s sharp but caring, like she always was. The heavy Polish accent is difficult to understand, but the words rattle continuously around my mind. “Penny in your shoe, you haven’t got a clue, the things they will do, to escape and hide from you”.
My eyes scan the dark, clay brick roads beneath me, but to no avail. He’s closing in, and this time I’m not sure I’m going to reach the doorway. No penny in sight, but yet I feel my fear reducing. A calm washes over me as I realized the real penny is inside me, in the inner workings of my soul. I let my consciousness fall from the frantic streets, and deep into myself. I feel oneness.
I wake up after what feels like an eternity. I step out of the warm soft bed and onto the hardwood floors. I walk outside and admire the sensation of the beaming sun on my skin. The sunlight illuminates the beautiful Eastern European street ahead of me, the colorful buildings with elaborate balconies bending into the street, the cobblestone road rising up to meet me.
Fuck.
