Today I went to the bank to transfer money to my landlord. A nice assistant came to me and asked me if I wanted to do it quicker by another window, I accepted with relief. She asked me for two ID's and disappeared for an hour...........What happened? Frozen food in my bags started melting and she was still behind the wall, keeping me in the dark, did they forget about me? I tried to ask around but everyone else was too bisy, they asked me to wait a minute more...........And then the fear came.....aha, there is something wrong with my Polish driving license,or maybe they decided that I am a suspect of some crime, or I don;t have a right to stay here. But I have a right to stay, I have been living and working here for so long, what is this fear about? I knew it.........I knew it from the long queues in Poland in any public institution which had power to grasp your heart and squeeze your soul in the process of paying a bill, inquiring about your own account, or (God forbid) applying for passport, while trying to blank your existence against the white-yellow walls coated with the smell of home made sandwiches and cigarettes. And I am not speaking about the old, serious communist octopus which was working like that by law, I recall those new and glittering, marble-covered baby institutions from the Third Poland, born after 1989 which still adapt the old approach between the symptoms of the light, democratic, stylised capitalism. I was sitting in my Barclays Bank feeling like the K from the Castle, pushed into the chair by my fear that THEY will find out in a minute some good reason to take the account from me, call the Police, and expel me from the country. What a madness...........trying to breath normally, I attempted to smile when the shiny assistant came back explaining the rules.......Yes, thank you, I appreciate your effort, I managed to murmur. She apologised again and I went out into the street soaked in the spring sun, not knowing anything about my dying. How is it possible, I ask myself, where does it come from? How deep is this fear rooted? How many others do need to feel like that? Am I the only one? My children don't know what I am talking about..........that;s a relief, and they shouldn't, no one should........I had to pack my fear and I moved to the Asian grocery shop where I took it out on the pack of prawns which got stuck in the freezer. A fight was intense but bloodless, the assistant came to offer me help but received a short rebuke from the reborn-K who now knows her rights towards the prawns and don't want to be taught. The poor guy smiled back..........but was obviously hurt...........We have known each other for three years............there was no reason for such behaviour........I came back on the evening to apologise, I said I had had a bad day.............he smiles again, this time with sun on his face.