Ljubav u kasabi

In a dusty Bosnian town, where time was measured by footsteps on the cobblestones and whispers behind the shutters, young Đorđe Đokić returned from Vienna with the scent of the big world in his coat. He was tall, with eyes that jumped from boldness to daydreaming, and his arrival stirred the sleepy town. The girls looked at him furtively, but Anica, the daughter of the merchant Vujinović, did not hide her gaze. She was like a wild flower – beautiful but sharp, with a pride that made the young men lower their eyes.

Đorđe felt his heart pounding when Anica passed by his shop, her hair catching the sun. Conversations began, short ones, under the cherry tree in the yard, where words were heavy with the unspoken. But the town was not asleep. Eyes followed them, tongues cheered. Anica knew the rules – love is a luxury in a world where marriage means a bargain. Đorđe, torn between the splendor of Vienna and the dust of the town, dreamed of taking her away, but he did not know where.

Their meetings became rarer, suffocated by whispers and expectations. Anica chose her duty, and Đorđe was lost in restlessness. When he left, the town fell silent, and Anica stood by the window, as if waiting for something that never arrived.