Absolute Sunset by Kata Mlek

“Vegetables—Fruits—Sweets.” Mariusz opened a can for her, then his own. The Coke was lukewarm. Very sweet. Sabina drank slowly. She didn’t want to burp.
    “Cigarette?” asked her new companion.
    “Yes, please!”
    They smoked. The smoke rose and twisted above Bartek’s pram and Sabina turned him away a little bit. She didn’t want Mariusz to think she was stupid. The baby’s health could be endangered by cigarette smoke. Mariusz nodded his head in recognition and Sabina felt relieved.
    They sat, saying little. Local chatterboxes gave them furtive glances and rushed to hide in staircases to jabber away, to rattle on. “Sabina’s hanging around with somebody again!” “Sabina’s talking to the vegetable guy.” Sabina didn’t give a shit.
    After their first meeting, she was on the lookout for Mariusz around the vegetable store. She went for a walk with Bartek and circled around it. She succeeded and congratulated herself on her cunning.
    “Oh, we meet again!” she heard a few days later. She jumped up so she would seem surprised, as if she had come to the spot by accident. “Fate!” laughed Mariusz.
    “Good morning!” Sabina answered, as enthusiastic as a teenage girl. She could flirt, you bet! “I’ve been walking, you know—fresh air’s important for the baby’s health,” she lowered her head modestly, like a pure-bred Polish Mother. But she let her hip swing to the right, temptress. Mariusz pawed at her with his eyes. It worked!
    “Wait, I’ll unload the delivery and we’ll take a walk,” he promised, disappearing inside the car.
    Then they actually went for a walk. One time. Another. The next. They stopped for coffee at a nearby dive. A café, Mariusz called it. In fact it was a beer house, where they also served cheap vodka. Better that then nothing. Sabina didn’t complain. They headed into the sweltering centre of Katowice to have some ice-cream. Then they dined in hurry in some bar, eating as they stood at the counter.
    “No restaurants with the baby,” Mariusz said, and Sabina agreed. The Polish Mother. The cheap dinner tasted good. She was with Mariusz. She touched him, just like that, in passing. Oh, all right. Everything happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to think.
    As it turned out, he lived in her neighbourhood. Literally two streets away. Why hadn’t she noticed him earlier? She could reach Mariusz’s place either by taking a walk on a shabby promenade that stretched around the high-rise block or by taking a shortcut and using passages that ran right through the long buildings. Sabina preferred the second option, even though the passages stank of urine and would sometimes come across derelicts. And it was windy there.
    August came around. Mariusz invited her to his flat. Sabina prepared for the visit for several hours. Eyeliner on her eyelids, mascara, perfume. Shaved her legs. She knew what to do—you have to doll up. She imagined an elegant one-room flat, one spacious room, with little furniture. No carpets with Persian flourishes. No curtains, veils, drapes of cheap machine-embroidered tulle. She could see modern equipment inside. Big, respectable TV. A toaster, silver and shiny. Water bed.
    But Mariusz’s flat was the complete opposite—dark, small, and boring. Cluttered with appliances collected from acquaintances and family members. Armchairs worn out by thousands of buttocks. Tables with hollows made by a few hundred pairs of elbows. And these bloody curtains, exactly the color of tomato soup. Dust everywhere.
    “Welcome to my kingdom!” Mariusz announced, greeting her when she appeared at his door for the first time. “Come in!” he bowed low, the way a servant might do. She didn’t want to disappoint him. She came in. She stayed.
    Mariusz’s flat had one undeniable advantage. It had a sizeable hall, where Bartek’s pram fit perfectly. It connected the living room to the kitchen. Sabina would leave Bartek there. He usually slept, and when he