That’s what my friends told me that New Year’s Eve night many, many moons ago in Poland. He had been madly in love with my friend Grazyna – who, it turned out, was madly in love with someone else. And apparently, she told him so that night.
In his despair – and after
a few many shots of Zytnia wodka – he ran out of the house, sans coat, and into the woods behind the house we were celebrating in.
“O Matko!” wailed Grazyna as she noticed the front door left wide open, blowing snow was beginning to collect like powdered sugar in the hallway, and a gasp followed by whispers, rippled through the room.