I hope you are well and that you are reading this letter from some safe and warm place.
Rainy and cold days have slowly arrived in Maribor. October. Already!
I'm wondering if time is passing by so quickly there, same as here. The passing of time is probably the only thing that is the same in all parts of the world. And the moon, also. The moon is the same everywhere. And it follows me wherever I go.
Anyway, do you remember Gregor, whom I wrote to you about in my previous letter? This month was a bit quiet for him. He spent a lot of time at the OBRAT gallery, waiting for visitors and gladly sharing with them funny stories about flipbooks. There was only one flipbook he was not willing to talk about. The electrified flipbook. Every day, he was trying to prepare to touch it, but he didn't dare.
He also regularly attended Slovene conversation classes. He spent time with children, helped them, and learned a lot from them. About the language. And about life. And most of all, about a child's perspective on life.
This month, he had a nice opportunity to meet guests from Croatia and Hungary, who are dear friends of our Pekarna. Together with them, he visited Simon's wonderful place. The sights he saw there brought him back to his early childhood and growing up. The sound of silence. The smell of his grandmother's jam. He missed it.
He looked for a suitcase large enough to carry in it all the memories from his childhood and all of his friends, so he could show them what his eyes now can see. But he had no luck. He couldn't find it.
