Po večeři, když táta v garáži "pracoval" u piva s Jardou z vesnice, lehly jsme si s mámou na podlahu, opřely nohy o kachlová kamna, otevřely dvířka a koukaly na plamínek a poslouchaly praskání dřeva, které se z kamen linulo.
After dinner, when dad was "working" in the garage, having a beer with Jarda from the village, we lay on the floor with mum, propped our feet against the tiled stove, opened the little doors and looked at the flames, and listened to the crackle of wood, which drifted out of the stove.