Killer icicles
If people in this town are walking with their heads turned upwards, anxious expression on their face, bumping into each other and almost getting run over by cars, it’s not so much because they might be crazy — though many of them are, no doubt, including our upstairs neighbor, who’s a very nice, polite woman who always greets us and then goes out into the street and starts screaming incomprehensible stuff at passers-by — no, it’s because we have these killer icicles, some of them several meters long, that nobody feels obliged to take down.
This is one of the aspects of living in a po-co (post-communist) place: nobody’s responsible for anything. “Citizens” feel it’s the “state’s” responsibility to do things, the state feels it’s up to house-owners, and nobody ever gets called on anything. So people get hurt — just yesterday, a woman was hit nearby and had to go to hospital; last year, at least one person was killed in our street.
To illustrate, and courtesy of my wife, here’s one of those bastards — this one in fact hanging from our very own roof:
