GABRIELA
“Timi… what’s your real name, after all? Tim — that’s not a Czech name. It’s some sort of diminutive, like Tom from Tomáš.”
Gabriela was looking at him with such intensity, as if God only knows what depended on the answer to this question. She narrowed her eyelids and stuck out her chin in expectation of some fundamental question now being made plain to her. Then she’ll bend her head back, open her eyes wide and laugh. Timik well knew this etude of hers, but he never knew how seriously she played it. He didn’t really get these sharp girls, decisive and attentive to details. For example, the movement with which she brushed away that one disobedient strand from her forehead, which had somehow escaped from the firm knot of her dark hair. She knew how to do that.
“My full name is a
