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

and stressing her out. I’d read that stress was the worst thing for a pregnant
mother, even worse than smoking or drinking alcohol.
I agreed with Elly to visit the house, our house that weekend and this time
instead of renting a car we took the tram and then the bus when we got to the
end of the tram line. It took an hour from the centre to reach the house and that
didn’t excite me. It didn’t matter that by the time we moved in I wouldn’t have
a job in the centre, it should have done though. I knew that when I had a
moment alone at home or at work I had to start making enquires about finding a
new job. I couldn’t risk Elly or any of my staff finding out and I could feel my
hair thinning and waist expanding as the pressure grew.
The street which the house was on was called Church Street, well in English
anyway. It was very quiet and standing on the street you’d never have guessed
that only another row of houses away was one of the busiest roads in Poland.
There was a little shop or grocers at the end of the street and a huge church after
a small river. The church was painted a sickly yellow, the kind a dog might
cough up after swallowing a frog.
We ambled down the bizarre street. Some houses looked half finished while
others where beautiful. There was an empty lot with overgrown grass and as me
and Elly peered in at it a big dog popped its face out. We were both taken aback
by it but it was very friendly. We continued down to our place and heard our
neighbour’s music blaring out.