So I threw him out.
Kuba had been behaving strangely yesterday, beginning with a small beer-drinking session we had with Vasile’s Irish girlfriend. She and Vasile had had a big fight the night before, and she wanted to talk to me about it. That whole mess is a post in itself. Maybe later.
Kuba hadn’t wanted to go and kept asking me why I wanted him along.
“Proto ty a já spolu . . .
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