THE BREEZE OF JENERO IN ZABLJAK

As the haunted streets lingered on, a long dark-haired old woman of age around 60s was watching the passings-bys aimlessly on a sunny Zabljakian day with scattered clouds in the sky. She was in a black dress which might be reminisced as a mourning day of a loved one. In her half way legs, that see-through socks you can see her white skin just under her knees....God knows what she was thinking with her hand holding her chin. On her right, whom she is unaware of, a couple from a western european country was staring at their phones while looking at the sign of jenero ( means lake ) before hiking. It is unlikely to miss the chance of seeing her moving. She is almost motionless. When she suddenly shouted at the children as they entered the two-storey-house of which she was sitting in front, one can easily get startled.

Within a blink of a few winks, she started to play with her silver rings in both hands and the sleeves of of her black cardigan... It looked as if she didn't mind that the drizzle just started, which was not able to bother her. The clouds gathered in clusters all of a sudden as if they were in a battle of not allowing the sun to shine on the hills. 

Right across the woman's house, in the front of the garden of a hotel restaurant, " Hayde bre," yelled an old man in a grey suit as he approached getting out of his blue car. He sat at a table of two, where a friend of his age sat across him and when he looked sideways, he saw a boy aged around ten holding a basketball. They shook hands and one could easily realise that he had  the looks of a caring father rather than a neighbour. 

Meanwhile, three French girls at the opposite table just finished their " burgers", of which they had  thought a modern hamburger they would get. Nonetheless, they ended up with ' cevapi' . As the meal was served the middle- aged waitress showed an absolute certainty that cevapi is burger, the girls realised that they had to do away with what they got.

As for the old men, now that they tried to communicate with the girls, their attempt was in vain. They failed to do so because of the language barrier.

In  a quarter of an hour, the rain stopped and he girls got in their car, under the constant looks of the two men. The girls were actually one of the groups they came across every other day in this peaceful, slow-pacing place with cotton clouds which are often hesitant to show up in the sky.

The following day, the old woman was walking on the main road in the same clothes but his time holding a handbag......At a second glance, she probably  curved the edges of lips , which could be interpreted as a kind of  a managed smile. It might be because she was probably doing the chores and forgot her sorrow for a while, which was awaiting for her as soon as she lay her first step into her house with a tall roof. 

The exterior of her house was covered with wood, worn out of its vivid colour. Considering the memories that held for many years, she might have felt solely lucid to keep herself in a shelter. Or she almost forgot to remember most of the dark details that she had lived through and would just start to make preparations to stuff the green bell peppers which she had bought from the bazaar. 

She seemed as if she didn't need to define everything again and again like some people would do after a life changing event. In that case, you can even say to some extend that she  was 'seizing' the day. The exact day which was supposed to be repeated similarly to other days. That might be the meaning of freedom for her, within the imprisonment of her 'obliged- do-so' circle. To be able to do what she wanted, so it was.

In the kitchen, crunched over the sink,  she washed the peppers, tomatoes and cut the tops of the peppers slowly and with halts that could be observed in Japanese animes. The limps had already memorised the routine, doing the frequent task....(to be continued..)