For most people, Krupnicza is a place where they have a chance to park their car in the city centre. Eat dinner. Have coffee with someone. They probably visited the Mehoffer House once on a school trip. They bought a newspaper at a newsagent’s opposite. Those who were late for something ran along the pavement to the tram stop next to Bagatela. Perhaps they even entered the vegetarian bar located at no. 22. They had stuffed cabbage. Croquettes. Once or twice. But they had no idea who used to eat here once, who read their works, who laughed out loud. Who lived one floor above, and a floor above that, and who watched treetops from the attic – this is how Małgorzata I. Niemczyńska’s story about the Writers’ House on ul. Krupnicza 22 begins.