Crtice

Dear Zrinka, I haven't forgotten you. I thought I was waiting for you to return from your trip, from Italy, but in fact it's because I didn't want to part with your manuscript. I read it pretentiously and importantly, I wanted to suggest, determine, edit and evaluate, and then I indulged and enjoyed what were only seemingly records, family records, and they grow lengthwise and crosswise towards everything else, important and unimportant, transient and preserved. Records about childhood, growing up, destinies and coincidences and — perhaps above all — about the passion for living, which means working, working on oneself and for others, and it can also be different, reciprocal, what we get when we know how to give, when we want, etc. etc. etc. Who am I, I thought in the end, to determine and suggest anything. It was enough to read, with pleasure. I'm not sure that anything needs to be changed, refined, because that would be, what would it be? Manuscript: to publish. Read it with pleasure and for pleasure!

– – – from a letter from the editor Miroslav Mićanović