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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 14 | volume III | April-May, 2000



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                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 14April-May, 2000
Prose

Avanos

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p. 1
Petre M. Andreevski

    1.

    Returning from Cappadocia,[1] the bus stopped at Avanos.[2] All the tourists got off and began crawling around the city. The day was warm and clear, with an abundance of sun and purple light. The houses lined the steep slope of the hill and looked like one big well-lit shop window. In front of the houses and along the winding lanes were displayed varieties of colourfully painted pottery, jugs, mugs, plates, pitchers, coffee cups, vases, vessels for oil, for wine, for grain, as well as spouted pots of copper. There were other pots too, of unknown purpose. They were well fired, richly braided and ornamented in eastern style. Obviously, all the inhabitants of Avanos were great potters. Almost the entire city was covered in pots. Human voices arose, echoed, and vibrated from the pots like bees hovering above a hive.
    Gjuvezia Dubrovska and Sija Hadzibanova were dazzled. They looked everywhere but didn't know where their eyes should rest first. Their eyes skimmed over the glazed pots and were blinded by the glare of the sun. They liked everything but they couldn't buy everything.
    They stopped before a pottery shop and the potter invited them in. The girls trembled at his invitation. They were seized by a strange chill coming out of the opened door. The pottery shop was actually a deep cave that had been expanded by masons on several occasions. However, they trembled not only because of the cold, but also out of fear. They sensed that something was about to happen to them, that something would catch them unawares. The potter disappeared into the shop, reemerging with a tray of two earthen cups full of cold wine. The cups had golden rims that melded with the wine.
    – Come in, said the potter, his mouth full of throaty tenderness.
    The girls raised their eyebrows wondering what to do. They hesitated. But the potter steadily held the tray before them. A light smell of vineyards, oak barrels and musky wine cellars rose into the air. The girls looked at each other, questioning only with their eyes. From this they gathered courage: in one motion they reached for the cups and lifted them. Their lips touched the golden rims and they sipped from the wine. Its smoothness rippled their throats, first upward, then downward. They sipped again and felt it blissfully spread through their veins. It opened their eyes, enlarged their pupils. They then

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1. Cappadocia is famous for the churches and dwellings of the early Christians.
2. A city in Anatolia, central Turkey.






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