pain finger sliced bread

Krakow, Poland

Polish bread can be quite solid, unless you go for sliced bread, which I will now after slicing my finger this morning and ending up in a Polish hospital. The taxi driver took me to one place, which was a bit like a hospital, but not really. It was a back entrance. A guy with short cropped hair was standing outside smoking a cigarette. When he’d finished his cigarette he went in side, put on some surgical gloves and peeled the toilet paper off my finger. Blood dripped on the floor. He bandaged up my finger and told the taxi…