Marcin Piniak – Homeland

At first, I only saw the face. A delicate smile reflected in the window of the underground carriage I was riding. The eyes of a spirit. The one who visited me several hours later – dressed in a khaki uniform, it saluted and stood there in silence. Heavy drops of rain fell from us, right into the earth beneath our feet, smelling of spring.

In the morning, I knew time had come to tell his story.