Cultural Institution Blesok • Established 1998
New in Blesok

the art is inside

ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 49 | volume IX | July-August, 2006



                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 49July-August, 2006

The Playground

p. 1
Rumena Bužarovska

    The next day I woke up happier because I knew I would be able to go to the playground and play with the other kids. My mother sent me out to get some bread again, but this time I bought a nice, soft and even somewhat warm loaf, so when I came back my mother didn’t scold me, she even kissed me.
    “Where are you going?” she asked.
    “I’ll go play with my friends,” I said.
    “Alright, but be careful, don’t go the playground, you can fall there,” she warned me, as if she knew I were going to the playground.
    “Yes” I said, and left the house.

When I got there, Bistra and Moni were already on the swings, while Bistra’s little sister was sitting nearby, shouting at the top of her lungs.
    “My turn, my turn!” she screeched, while Bistra and Moni went up into the air and back down, showing off that they knew how to swing.
    “Wait a minute!” Bistra screamed back, while her sister jumped up and down impatiently, or ran up in front of the swing, only to run away when Bistra would come swinging back.
    Milan was there, too. He was dangling from the bridge and walking on its bars.
    “Is the bridge dry?” I said, trying to show that I already knew of the news.
    “What do you think?” Milan shot back.
    I touched the bridge and really it was still a bit sticky, but only if you pressed your hand on it harder.
    “It’s still sticky,”I told him, “Yesterday the men who came told me to tell the other kids not to climb the bridge, because they’d get dirty and spoil the new paint.”
    “So what?” said Milan and continued to dangle on the bridge, “Petar stained his clothes yesterday, ha ha ha!” he giggled.
    I saw that the bridge was not as smooth as it was when the two men painted it the day before; there were places where it was rough, places where hands had stuck on it.The mid-parts of the steps were the roughest, where the children had walked. I remembered the two men and how they told me to tell the other kids that the bridge had been freshly painted. I felt like uttering another small “aaaah”. It was my fault that the bridge was a bit spoiled.
    I never liked Milan too much, so I turned my back on him and moved towards Moni and Bistra.
    “Hey Iva,” said Moni, “Why didn’t

"Blesok" editions 01-93 are also available at CEEOL web site.

By purchasing our titles, you are directly supporting our activities. Thank you!


Visit us on Facebook Follow us on Twitter Follow us on Google+