Trafika Europe 5 - Slovenian Interlude

they didn’t know who they belonged to. I don’t know what the situation will be like elsewhere, and when I’ll be able to get in touch again. But I will get in touch. Believe me. I hope you’re all fine. You and V. I left the house last night after seven days, and went to the farmer’s market and a shop. I had a cold for the last few days and I took some pills for my immune system, and I’m better now. So you needn’t worry. I don’t have a sore throat anymore, and I’m okay. I read in the newspaper that everything is more expensive in your country, since it adopted the euro. It would be the same here, if it is ever adopted. Here things are more expensive even without the euro. But for now I’m just fine. I also read about Bojan Križaj. It said he worked in Japan. Either Tomislav Zdravković found whatever point he planned to make about Bojan Križaj and Japan of sufficient importance to end the letter, or more likely he never got around to finishing it. Nedelko Borojević was never a particularly literate man, and the very fact that Tomislav Zdravković wrote letters was enough to impress me. But at that moment, I couldn’t have cared less. I was preoccupied by something else in the letter. Aside from the name of Križaj, the famous skier, my name and my ‘darling’ mother’s, there was someone else mentioned in the letter, someone my mother must know about. I stood up, eyes still focused on the unfinished letter, as if more words might sprout if I stared hard enough.

‘Find anything of interest?’

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