Ada opens the small ventilating window and lights up a cigarette. How abnormally bright the stars are! Even in the warmth of the kitchen, looking through the flowers of ice, she can sense how cold it is. In the winter more than ever she would like to be at her mother’s in the country. She hates the trolley buses, on which she has to commute to work. People in their winter clothes are twice as fat, sullen and ill-tempered, especially in the mornings. The air is hot and smelly. If she is pushed into a seat by a window, then she freezes. It is even worse going on the bus with the children, because then she must worry all the time, that someone might step on them or crush them. It is cold in the office. They have begun to warm themselves drinking Balsam liqueur. She very much likes the taste of coffee with Balsam. From somewhere, one hears the never-ending sound of old, used up heating pipes breaking down. One can break one’s neck on the street; in some places there is only a narrow path tracked between the road cleared for auto traffic and gigantic heaped mountainsof snow. Ada understands that these are the grey mundane dues paid for freedom, acquired relatively peacefully. There were, of course, sacrifices, but there was also an undeniable and unforgettable euphoria.

Her life seemingly is simple. She gets up, prepares breakfast, sees her husband off to work and her children off to school, commutes to work, has a cheap lunch in a café, a cigarette, a coffee with Balsam, commutes home from work, roams through stores, takes the children out from extended day-care, waits for her husband to come home, prepares supper, looks at TV and has quiet sex, so the children do not wake. Saturdays and Sundays they go to the country to one or the other of their mother’s homes. Back to the city with bacon, preserves and pīrāgi, which help to stretch the family budget until the next week. There is a constant lack of money. In the last little while, she suspects her husband has some other interests. Often there is joy regarding the children. Fun and love-filled get-togethers with her brother and sister, and their children. Parties with friends. Drives with relatives to graveyard festivities honouring the souls of the dead as custom would have it. Now and then she has a pain in her side. It perhaps sounds simple. But she very much loves her life. She is delighted with this simplicity. The day-to-day activities, waiting for the holidays. She knows how to motivate people. Since she has not gotten used to complicating anything, she takes her life as it is.