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The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

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“Ch-e-ho.” She interrupted me by telling me to shut up in <strong>Polish</strong>.<br />

I would hear that word a lot and probably rightly so. Somebody once accused<br />

me of having verbal diarrhoea so I stopped talking to smell my breath, minty<br />

fresh, and continued with what I was saying.<br />

We were still alone and I was so nervous that I couldn’t stay quiet for long.<br />

“Are you nervous? I am nervous. I hope it isn’t twins.” I couldn’t shut up.<br />

“Don’t say stupid things.”<br />

“You want twins?” Was it stupid not to want twins? Did they bring good luck in<br />

Poland? In Catholic families? I’d never heard such a thing. “It’s possible. <strong>The</strong>re<br />

is no history in my family so it’s unlikely. Is there in yours? It could be twins.”<br />

Yep verbal fucking diarrhoea. I couldn’t shut my mouth. I didn’t have a mute<br />

button either so Elly decided to engage me in futile debate and speculation.<br />

“He could be blue.”<br />

“She could be green.” I replied. I wanted to say more but I caught myself. I<br />

stood up and looked around, still nothing. “Do you want a drink?”<br />

“Lemon tea.” She replied.<br />

She probably didn’t but fancied some peace and quiet. I went off all hunter<br />

gatherer, stalking my prey, quietly tracking it down then waiting for the right

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