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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 18 | volume IV | January, 2001



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                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 18January, 2001
Prose

The Winter Sun

/5
p. 1
Branko Pendovski

    The car stopped behind two-three other cars that were parked in front of the two isolated houses in the mountain. While the women were taking out bunches of flowers and other little things that were usually carried in such occasions, I could notice some people in front of the bigger basement house, relatives and friends of the deceased person, lined up in a restrained expectation to accept condolences and let the newcomers pass in. It seemed to me that it lasted too long, but however we went out, shook hands and kisses the relatives, with the rest we only shook hands, expressing our condolences for the great loss.
    The fear that we might be late seemed to be exaggerated, but the winter day was swiftly coming to its end. We went into the house. In the big room where we usually cooked the sheep milk during the summer time, or we all gathered, watched TV and chatted with our relatives, stood about ten women and some men. The deceased person lay in the midst of stringy winter flowers in the same bed opposite the windows where he used to sleep and rest every day and night. I stayed there for a while, and then I went into the narrow hall between the rooms. I met the son there, who was also master of the house. I shook hands with him and kissed, and only said in a restrained voice: “So, we let the father pass away”.
    He took me to the other room, we sat and had cigarettes. He told me about the old man' last days and moments. A friend of the old man had come from the lower village and brought him a bottle of wine. The old man was not allowed to drink wine, but he had drunk it sip by sip. Moreover, he had vomited for three days, couldn't eat and felt bad, but didn't want to call a doctor.
    “Daughter-in-law, I will tell you something tonight”, the old man had said to the middle-aged woman.
    That afternoon he had felt very bad. The son had gone to the lower village to order a doctor. When he had come back, his father had already passed away. He had not managed to tell his daughter-in-law that “something”. The son was wondering in front of me what that could have been. Was that his last will? Or the revealing of secret of






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