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Well, it’s happened again.

Marek came to my window yesterday and demanded that Valentýn give him back his little bag of clothes. I could sort of tell Marek was angry about something, but since I was eating, I just let it and him go.

Later in the day, Valentýn told me he’d run into Marek at the station and that he had demanded to know why I had called him kurva, the . . .

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