At my grandmother's apartment
We had three old women
Always sitting on the bench.
Every day for years.
Sometimes they would wear simple blouses with medals,
All three went to the Second World War.
I remember them from me being a little girl to a grown woman.
At spring, in university, I didn't pass the civil law exam.
I was going home and crying,
Red face, red nose, lines of mascara on my cheeks and lipstick on my chin.
What happened,
The women asked me together, shocked a bit.
I was telling about the university, the exam, how hard it would be, study again, should I quit.
Something like this.
They were staring at me,
And saying only to each other:
She is crazy.
After a while I stopped thinking about law university at all.
It wasn't mine.
Money, good job as a detective.
I was towing up on the crime scene,
Saying that I am not going to touch anything.
Then someone gave me vodka,
I was drinking from the bottle and the way back to work,
I was acting ... unprofessional in the car.
I realized, skipping important documents, this,
Was not for me.
After six years I left that profession..
