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Patrik Baranec Memorial ”Short” Story Competition

Dňa 22. októbra 2019 sa na našom gymnáziu uskutočnil tretí ročník súťaže v písaní príbehov Patrik Baranec Memorial ”Short” Story Competition. Vyučujúce anglického jazyka Erika Hoppanová a Eva Kačírová zoradili najúspešnejšie autorky / najúspešnejších autorov nasledovne:
1. miesto: Jana Baloghová (septima)
2. miesto: Jana Ďuračková (3.B)
3. miesto: Maxim Petrovský (3.C)
Blahoželáme a všetkým ďakujeme za účasť.

Víťazný príbeh:

Metal Cage

People say you should move on. Start again. But when there´s nothing to move onto, where do you go?

She was everything to me. The last creature to stay there for me, to comfort me after a long day at work, to make me smile whenever things seemed to be falling apart, was gone.

You would think those online articles on coping with loss would be of any use.

“Focus on the future. Don´t stay in the past. Surround yourself with your loved ones, travel, eat, sleep...”


The tranquility of water had charmed me ever since I stepped into it for the first time. As a child I would refuse to go near it, I was frightened. Even then I could recognize its power, but I misunderstood it.

Once you dive, you´re surrounded by vibrant silence and calm, cool colours. You feel light, but heavy at the same time. The pool is empty, yet you can sense life in its emptiness. You feel free.

The sun had already hidden behind the concrete horizon of the city when I parked my car next to the public pool. With a duffle bag in one hand and dangling car keys in the other I got out, already fixing my mind onto the cool, calm water. Its purity and gentle waves beating against the artificial shore. Secretly hoping to have the whole pool for myself, as usual, I glanced at the other lockers. Only one of them was locked, containing belongings of only one other person.

Hastily, I changed into my swimsuit, anxious to do so before someone else arrives and hurried over to the pool. It seemed to be empty.

I stroked its serene surface with a long gaze one last time before finally diving in. With its cold touch on my skin my mind was cleared and once again I appeared in a tranquil paradise. Secure embrace of the water. The beams of light penetrating the blue emptiness. Silent humming sounding like soothing music to my ears. In other words, the one place where you can afford to think of nothing at all.

It was as if all of my thoughts and burdens spilled out into the turquoise void, fading, melting. All except one.

I had no family or close friends except Sheila. She was the only thing that mattered at the end of the day. One thing that wasn´t painful to think of.

She wasn´t young, but still had a few happy years ahead of her. I know she loved me and that she knew I loved her. Then why did she leave me?

She was gone. I looked for her every day, all week. I skipped work and risked getting fired. I ran around, asking neighbours, the postman, anyone. Then I found her. I´ll spare you the details. All I´m saying to you is that I had only found pieces of her. I figured some cat or a bird got to her before I did.

Tears get lost in a pool of water, which is another thing I like about swimming.

My colleagues are okay and they´ve treated me nothing less but kindly, but I resisted telling them. I didn´t tell anyone. Not even my mum. After the last time we´ve seen each other I would often wonder if she still considered me her daughter.

I was in this alone, holding the pain in, stomaching it. Has anyone at work noticed?

Realizing I had no oxygen left, I started to swim frantically to the surface with burning lungs. Finally, fresh air greeted me and I leaned on a metal railing, gasping for breath.

“You alright?” I heard from behind me. Surprised, I spun around to see a man sitting on the stairs leading to the pool, with the lower half of his body submerged into the water, the other half completely dry. I figured he must´ve appeared recently. Either that or I was going crazy and didn´t notice him. Was he here all this time?

“Yeah, sure,” I said with a weak voice, forcing a smile.

“Seeing you flail around in the water, I thought you needed rescuing, but it seems you can rescue yourself just fine,” he smirked, amused by my beginner swimming style.

“I had only started swimming recently,” I tried to explain myself, feeling my face going red. “I´m not very good at it yet.”

I felt too weak to make up an excuse. I was trying to convince myself that I didn´t really care what this random person thinks of me, but to no avail. I felt like he was laughing at me. He wasn´t, but it still occurred to me that he was.

“Why suddenly start swimming?” he asked, still smiling widely.

I wasn´t sure how to answer.

“I just found that I liked swimming,” I replied after a little bit of thought.

He nodded, a bit unsatisfied with my simple answer. It was clear he wanted to make a conversation. So I took the liberty to ask him the same:

“Why do you swim?”

I was surprised to see him surprised. Surely he could expect me to ask that.

He was stirring the water thoughtfully with his hands, creating bouncing ripples.

“At one point it had helped me to cope with loss. Now I just enjoy it.”

“Loss?” I asked, the word awaking a spark of interest in me. Back then I didn´t realize how rude it was to ask: “Who did you lose?”

“My wife died,” he replied shortly afterwards, stating it like it was a simple fact.

“I´m sorry,” I said, surprised at the conversation taking such a grim turn.

“It´s alright,” the man smiled again. “It happened a long time ago. Now I´m married again.”

“Why?” Another rude question escaped my poorly raised mouth.

“Why not?”

“Don´t you miss your wife? Don´t you feel bad for forgetting her?”

“Moving on does not mean to forget,” he replied, shaking his head, as if I was struggling to understand a simple concept. “I didn´t forget her. I simply allowed myself to be happy again.”

“But how can you be happy if you lose someone you loved?” I asked, still puzzled. Thinking of just getting another guinea pig instead of Sheila, I became even more confused.

“No matter how much I miss her, nothing will bring her back,” he shrugged. Seeing I have nothing to say to that, he went on:

“Think of grief as a barren, metal cage. As long as you´re in it, it keeps you from being free and happy. You´re sitting in it with the key in your hands. At this point you have two choices: you can either stay in the cage and throw away the key to your freedom, or you can let yourself out and be happy once again. It´s going to take some time getting used to, but suddenly the world seems a little more acceptable than from behind metal bars.”

“I think I get what you´re trying to say,” I replied. “I just can´t imagine simply finding a replacement for a loved one.”

“It´s not about finding a replacement though,” he corrected me. I couldn´t understand how he still managed to smile. “It´s about finding a new purpose when there´s clearly no point in staying buried in grief. Loss is just a part of being alive. Everyone will eventually lose someone they love. Does that mean we should all mourn for the rest of the life?”

“What if there´s no new purpose?” I muttered with a weak voice.

“There is one, maybe two, maybe many. Who knows? There´s only one way to find out. Swimming might be one of them.”

The man winked at me, grinning widely. He didn´t seem like someone whose wife has died. He looked like how I imagined someone with a perfect life to look. But what if the one thing that made your life perfect leaves you?

I didn´t get to ask another question. Just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. I was again left with silence and still water.

Jana Baloghová

Exkurzia Bruggy – Veľká Británia – Paríž

Exkurzia Bruggy – Veľká Británia – Paríž bola zorganizovaná PK anglického jazyka. Konala sa v dňoch 5. – 12. apríla 2019, zúčastnilo sa jej 46 študentov z tried : 1.A, B, C, D, E, F, Kvinta A, B, 2.B, C, 3.A, B, D, E. Exkurziu zorganizovali PaedDr. Ľubica Divékyová a Mgr. Peter Marko.
Pred realizáciou samotnej exkurzie študenti boli rozdelení do 10 skupín. Každá skupina dostala zadanie súvisiace s exkurziou, napríklad História Walesu, Historické osobnosti Walesu, Súčasnosť Walesu, Osobnosti súčasného Walesu, Miesta, ktoré navštívime – Bruggy, Cardiff, Oxford, Bristol, Woodstock, Stratford-upon-Avon, Portsmouth, Atrakcie, ktoré navštívime: Blenheim Palace, The Oxfordshire Museum, Windsor Castle, Typická strava a nápoje vo Walese, Sviatky a festivaly vo Walese, Frázy vo velštine a ich výslovnosť.
Jednotlivé skupiny vypracovali zadania, z vypracovaných zadaní, ktoré boli doplnené fotografiami, bola zostavená brožúrka. Každý študent obdržal zostavenú brožúrku v elektronickej podobe. V autobuse počas presúvania do miest nášho programu študenti prezentovali svoje zadania a odpovedali na pripravené otázky.
Prvým miestom nášho programu exkurzie boli Bruggy – malebné belgické mestečko, v minulosti významný prístav a obchodné centrum. Študenti mali možnosť vychutnať si prekrásnu atmosféru denných i nočných Brúg.
Po plavbe trajektom z Calais do Doveru, kde sme videli krásne biele útesy, prvou našou zastávkou bolo mesto Cantenburry so zaujímavou architektúrou a svojou dominantou – Canterburskou katedrálou - sídlo canterburského arcibiskupa.
Potom naša cesta smerovala do metropoly UK – Londýna – na brehu rieky Temži sme videli Londýnske oko. V Londýne sme si prehliadli Westmisterský palác s Vežou kráľovnej Viktórie, Big Ben ( po novom Veža kráľovnej Alžbety), Westmisterskú katedrálu, Buckinghamský palác – londýnske sídlo anglickej kráľovskej rodiny. Ďalej sme sa presunuli k Wellingtonovmu oblúku a cez Hyde park, Oxford Street a Regent Street na Piccadilly Circus a Trafalgar Square.
Nasledujúci deň miestami nášho poznávania bolo rodisko jedného z najvýznamnejších anglických a svetových dramatikov Williama Shakespeara – Stratford upon Avon, ďalej mestečko Woodstock s veľkolepým anglickým vidieckym sídlom - Blenheim palác. Okrem biskupských rezidencií je to jediné vidiecke sídlo v Anglicku, ktoré sa môže nazývať palácom. Blenheim je tiež rodiskom a pôvodným domovom sira Winstona Churchilla. Univerzitné mesto Oxford nás zaujalo svojou akademickou atmosférou a výnimočnosťou.
Cieľom exkurzie bola aj návšteva hradu Windsor, ktorý je jednou z oficiálnych rezidencií britskej kráľovskej rodiny, mesto Bristol a hlavné mesto Walesu Cardiff.
Ďalším miestom nášho spoznávania bolo najnavštevovanejšie mesto Veľkej Británie Bath. Presvedčili sme sa, že je to naozaj nádherné mestečko, ktoré svojou neopakovateľnou krásou priťahuje mnohých turistov. Rovnako atraktívnym bol však aj prístav Portsmouth, kde sme si užívali príjemnú prímorskú atmosféru.
Nočným trajektom sme sa presunuli z Portsmouth do francúzskeho prístavu Le Havre a následne autobusom do posledného mesta nášho spoznávania – Paríža. Prehliadku francúzskeho hlavného mesta sme začali na Montmartre s Bazilikou Sacré Coeur a námestím, kde sa stretávali poprední svetoví maliari. Slnečné počasie nám umožnilo nádherný výhľad na Paríž. Ďalej sme sa metrom presunuli k Víťaznému oblúku Napoleona Bonaparte a najslávnejšiu ulicu Paríža i sveta Champs-Élysées. Prezreli sme si najväčšiu európsku galériu Louvre a naše spoznávanie sme ukončili nezabudnuteľným pohľadom na denný i nočný Paríž z Eiffelovej veže.
Jedným zo základných cieľov exkurzie do Veľkej Británie bolo použiť anglický jazyk v konverzácii s „native“ spíkrami . Pred príchodom do Veľkej Británie študentom bolo dané ďalšie zadanie – otázky, ktoré majú položiť „ native“ spíkrom. Počas nášho putovania Veľkou Britániou sme vo všetkých mestách pozorovali skupinky študentov, ako komunikovali s Britmi a zapisovali si ich odpovede na zadané otázky. Počas presunu do Paríža sme vyhodnotili odpovede, ktoré študenti získali od „native“ spíkrov.
Najčastejšie odpovede sú:
1, Typické črty a charakteristika Britov – čaj, história, kráľovská rodina, fish and chips, futbal, pamiatky, zelené trávniky, parky. Briti sú milí, nápomocní, vtipní.
2, K britským kultúrnym hodnotám patrí rodina, kultúra, divadlo, historické a kultúrne dedičstvo, popíjanie čaju, schopnosť pomáhať, usmievať sa , byť milý, priateľský.
3, Na čo Briti nie sú hrdí – Brexit, politika, vláda.
4, Obľúbené témy rozhovorov – počasie, Brexit, politika, história, programy v TV ( hlavne seriály), kráľovská rodina, jedlo, domáci miláčikovia.
5, Čo Briti vedia o Slovensku – sme bývalé Československo, vlajka, trdelník, Škrtel, Sagan, chladné počasie, na Slovensku je lacnejšie ako vo Veľkej Británii. Niektorí nepoznajú rozdiel medzi Slovenskom a Slovinskom.
PaedDr. Ľubica Divékyová, Mgr. Petetr Marko

CK OAJ 2019

V dňoch 26. – 27. 3 . 2019 sa v Bratislave zúčastnil študent Patrik STANO z 2. A (M. Sonoga) CK OAJ. Získal 2. miesto. Gratulujeme!
M. Petrovský
foto: Iuventa

Patrik Baranec Memorial ”Short” Story Competition

Dňa 26. októbra 2018 sa na našom gymnáziu uskutočnil druhý ročník súťaže v písaní príbehov Patrik Baranec Memorial ”Short” Story Competition. Vyučujúce anglického jazyka Erika Hoppanová a Eva Kačírová zoradili najúspešnejšie autorky / najúspešnejších autorov nasledovne:
1. miesto: Cynthia Herchelová (2.C)
2. miesto: Jana Baloghová (sexta)
3. miesto: Maxim Petrovský (2.C)
Blahoželáme a všetkým ďakujeme za účasť.

Víťazný príbeh:

When the Beautiful Things Turn Deadly

My head hurts. That is the first thought that pops in my head when I wake up. It takes me other few seconds to notice anything else. The hard surface I´m lying on, the voice saying words I don´t distinguish and the cold. God, it´s so cold I can feel it in my bones. I start shivering.

ˮOh, good! You are alive.ˮ I open my eyes to look at the owner of the voice. His words are clear enough to understand, even though it hurts my head more. I sit up, slowly, like characters in fairy tales after a long, long sleep.

I look around, my vision is getting less blurry with each passing second. All around us there are trees. The only thing I can see in every direction is just greener and greener, except for the bright red shirt of the man in front of me. An uncontrollable shiver goes through my entire body. He asks me whether I´m okay and places one warm hand on my shoulder. I instinctively lean on the touch.

ˮI´m freezing. Who are you?ˮ I look into his eyes. There is something off about them, something I can´t quite define. They don´t look like any other eyes I´ve ever seen. But maybe I´m just still half asleep. He points to his shirt, right where a name is pinned. It says, ´Swimming Instructor JACKSON MARLEY´.

I notice that apart from his shirt he is wearing bathing trunks. I don´t understand how he is not shivering like I am.

ˮAre you ready to stand up, Lily?ˮ I´m sure I haven´t told him my name yet and that I haven´t met him before. He shouldn´t know it or say it with such familiarity. I tell him so, but he just stands up and offers me a helping hand. My head spins so violently, my breath caught in my throat. I close my eyes and when I open them again, the world is bathing in all reds and oranges. The sun is setting down.

‘Well, hi,’ he answered sharply looking at the girl whose name was Katherine.

I look up at the sky and for a moment enjoy the warmth of the last rays of sunshine. Sunsets have always fascinated me and because of that even now, in this situation, in the middle of woods with a complete stranger I can´t help myself but smile.

ˮWe should start walking in some direction. I think it would be best to go to the west, because we can follow the sun until it sets.ˮ I nod. We can´t stay here for longer. In this exact place or in the woods. All the beauty of trees turns deadly at night. Not to mention we don´t know where we are or how we got there. At least I don´t.

ˮDo you know where we are?ˮ I ask, hope seeping into my voice. I know he can see it in my eyes too, because when he shakes his head, his own look sad.

ˮWhat do you remember last?ˮ I think. It takes me much longer than it should and we continue walking. My head starts hurting again.

ˮI was sitting on the couch watching television. The last thing I remember are the voices of actors while falling asleep.ˮ He says he remembers going to bed and nothing else, which means we are in a dead spot. I can feel all the previous hope flying away.

The sun is almost below the horizon, making the world appear bloody red. I can feel panic slowly rising somewhere deep in my stomach. My breathing turns harsh, too loud in the quieting forest. My thoughts are racing and I can´t think because in a minute it will get dark and I won´t be able to see all the creatures of the night and I have no idea how I got into this place so far from home.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and I stop in my tracks. I look at him, a stranger in a strange place in a strange situation, but my heartbeat stops fluttering so hard in my chest.

ˮIt´s okay to be afraid. But we are in this together. You need to breathe.ˮ His voice sounds like honey, almost as beautiful as the golden hair on his head and wildness in his eyes. It doesn´t sound logical, but the fog in my head and the sun shining right through the emerald green of his eyes make him look ethereal.

My eyelids flutter shut and when I can finally breathe, the world turns silent. The time seems to stop and for half a second that feels like a year I could swear I could hear the trees breathing.

Under the dark blanket of night that has fallen faster than it should have, with the only light being that of thousands of little flickering stars, the world looks unreal. I look into the pitch black between the trees, praying for my eyes to quickly get used to the dark. The forest wakes up again, now with a new, much heavier atmosphere.

ˮWe should go, this is not a good place to stay.ˮ His whisper sounds like a scream. I can feel the panic rising anew, ten times stronger than it was before. My body starts shivering, not because of the cold around. It is suspiciously hot. The nervosity seems to take all warmth from my being, leaving it colder than any snow could.

I try to focus on anything other than walking, but my thoughts pass by faster than cars on the main road. My breath catches in my throat and then turns harsh again in an endless cycle I can´t escape.

Jackson next to me tries whispering calming words, but I can´t hear any of it. There is just me, my screaming thoughts that don´t make any sense and the forest, never ending darkness filled with wild animals and creatures no human has ever seen. Or lived long enough to talk about.

I clutch my shirt in a fist and try to make sense of anything around me, just not to think about sharp teeth and bloody claws. My heart feels like it´s being stabbed by thousands of knives and suddenly the only thought I can make out is run.

I don´t know how or where or why, but I´m running with speed greater than I´ve ever done and then there is no longer any ground below my feet and I´m falling and falling. I reach the ground and I´m lying on a couch in front of the fireplace.

Cynthia Herchelová


Vo štvrtok, dňa 14.januára 2016 sa na našej škole uskutočnilo okresné kolo olympiády v anglickom jazyku. Súťaže sa zúčastnilo 18 študentov z celého okresu, ktorí súťažili v štyroch kategóriách. Naša škola mala zastúpenie v troch z nich a naši žiaci sa umiestili nasledovne:
v kategórii 2A zvíťazila Mária Ďuríčková z 2.E; v kategórii 2B študent Maroš Krchňák zo 4.A sa umiestnil na 2.mieste a v kategórii anglofónnych študentov 2C2 zvíťazil Dávid Lukáč z 3.C.
Víťazom držíme palce v krajskom kole, ktoré sa uskutoční dňa 10.februára 2016 v Trenčíne.

Patrik Baranec Memorial ”Short” Story Competition

Dňa 25. októbra 2017 sa na našej škole uskutočnil prvý ročník súťaže v písaní príbehov Patrik Baranec Memorial ”Short” Story Competition. Vyučujúce anglického jazyka práce posúdili a 22. novembra sa všetci zúčastnení stretli v klubovni, aby si vypočuli výsledky. Diplomy a ceny si najúspešnejší prevzali z rúk poroty a mamy Patrika Baranca. Žiaci sa umiestnili nasledovne:
1. Mária Drabantová (III.C)
2. Inés Mária Švajlenková (III.F)
3. Adam Kršiak (III.F)
Úprimne blahoželáme a ďakujeme za účasť.

A Mouse in the Pudding

Nancy hated waiting rooms. They made her feel sick, even sicker than she had been before. But what she hated most, were the people – all those horribly annoying people waiting there, talking about their stereotypical, absolutely boring, lives. No one cared about them, especially Nancy who was just sitting there, immersed in a book she had read at least ten times, yet she kept it and read it every time she fell into a reading ‘slump’.

That book, even though it was rather old and with a broken spine, made her fell alive, made her hopeful, which wasn’t common, not to Nancy, at least. She didn’t like visiting the clinic. She was putting it off as long as she could. When the headache became too strong for her liking, she had no choice but to go there.

She wasn’t scared of doctors, dear reader. Nancy never fainted, never screamed, and never freaked out. She just simply didn’t enjoy being around people and at the clinic, there were hundreds of them. So you can imagine how she felt in the room where at least six people, with all kinds of illnesses, were waiting.

While she was thinking about unimportant things – and she was doing it a lot, a tall and a bit plump man entered the room. The room fell quiet, all eyes were on him analysing his peculiar appearance. He didn’t say, actually, anything. He just sat and didn’t even acknowledge their presence.

Suddenly, a girl, most likely a teenager, with auburn hair said, ‘Hello!’ A man who now looked older seemed surprised, perhaps shocked.

‘He is really big-headed,’ thought Nancy peering up from her book.

‘Well, hi,’ he answered sharply looking at the girl whose name was Katherine.

Nancy had been waiting there for some time and so she knew almost everything about everyone. Another reason why waiting rooms were nightmarish to her.

‘What’s your name? You know, we all know each other’s names by now. Hah, waiting rooms!’ she giggled a little bit.

God, she was so annoying! Nancy couldn’t stand her! Her gossips, instant jokes and her laugh, fake and totally unpleasant, was the worst of all.

‘Well … I’m Leonardo. I’m actually a cook…,’he said and by his tone you could say how uncomfortable he was really feeling.

Nancy, a woman with short messy hair and vintage glasses that suited her face perfectly, had no interest in listening to another story. Yet she did listen. God knows why.

‘A cook? That sounds lovely!’ Katherine shouted, her voice painful to be listened to.

‘Oh, God! Can’t you just shut up?’ yelled Nancy turning red from anger, her hands shaking from embarrassment.

‘What’s your problem?’ asked Kathrine, showing confused expression on her face.

And that was the moment when Nancy stopped the life around her (just a metaphor) and thought and thought some more. Because she had no idea what her problem was.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, her lips hardly moving.

For a few minutes, the room remained quiet. You could just hear beeping of various machines and coughing of patients.

‘Why? That’s fine. As I said, I’m a cook, or I used to be. Who knows what the future will bring. Anyway, yes, I am the best cook I know. I have always been the best, I have to say, always the most talented man, and therefore successful,’ was what Leonardo said. He was big-headed and rightly so.

It was true that he owned a beautiful restaurant here in Seattle, but was this really necessary? I guess it wasn’t. Nancy had the same opinion and I am confident enough to say that everyone thought exactly the same thing as I do. When he got no reaction and the silence begun to be awkward, he continued, ‘But something horrible has happened and it was just yesterday! My perfect restaurant was closed, because a stupid idiot found a mouse in that pudding! Can you believe it? I am so desperate, my restaurant was the only thing I had, the only source of my inner happiness!’

‘Is that so?’ Nancy asked and barely looked at him. He was a disgusting, egoistic and mad human.

‘What do you mean? That restaurant was like my child and now…,’ Leonardo started sobbing, and let me tell you, it looked strange indeed. His tears were full of hope, desire, passion and undoubtedly of great grief.

Nancy realized she was jealous. Yes, she literally envied him! Even though he was selfish and egoistic and his personality was kind of repulsive, he loved his job. He adored it with every fibre of his being, it was his love, his passion. If Nancy got fired from her repetitive job, she would be honestly grateful.

She was pretty much aware she wasn’t satisfied with her life, but just then, when Leonardo cried his eyes out because of losing his job, made her understand. She stood up, took her light jacket and looked carefully at all people sitting on their seats. They must have been confused, it’s possible even scared, because Nancy looked crazy, crazier than ever.

‘Farewell,’ she simply said and opened the door, not knowing what’s about to happen.

In two minutes time, she was standing next to the clinic, smiling, even though it was pouring and she didn’t have an umbrella. Was it a problem? Not at all. Nancy didn’t care. She wanted to have a life in which waking up in the morning wouldn’t be suffering, in which she would feel a kind of calm feeling inside of her. She didn’t have friends nor family. She couldn’t stand her job in the office. She didn’t feel joy or happiness. Nancy dreamed of many things. She was dying to travel finally, to learn Chinese and, most importantly, her biggest dream was to be a writer. To write books that would touch someone’s soul, to write and write until she would have nothing in her mind.

And here she was: unhappy and grumpy, shouting at strangers, unable to sleep at nights.

But that day she understood that she wanted to be like that cook, well, in some ways. She desired to be passionate to fly with her new colourful wings.

Nancy was running down the street, soaked to the skin by heavy rain that made her heart beat stronger, her laugh made louder.

She was all wet and cold yet she had never seemed happier. I’m not exaggerating.

Nancy was blooming with freedom in her soul and believe it or not, she didn’t have a headache anymore.

Mária Drabantová

© Gymnázium V. B. Nedožerského Prievidza