While the sun outside gently touched the leaves like silk on someone’s neck, Iris found peace and solace in her solitude on that hot morning in Skopje, in a place she considered her home: her favorite bookstore.
She moved slowly through the poetry section. As she bent down to retrieve a book from the lower shelves, she noticed something unusual.
The melodic rhythm of a wheelchair crossing the polished floor captured her attention, whispering stories of resilience The melodic rhythm of a wheelchair crossing the polished floor captured her attention, whispering stories of resilience
The girl had beautiful, lustrous blonde hair with varying shades of gold. Iris guessed that the girl was slightly older and that they had a similar build and height, at least from what she could tell. She immediately sensed the girl exuded quiet confidence.
After a few seconds, Iris quickly averted her gaze, feeling a touch of embarrassment. The girl smiled softly. A confident “Hello” filled the air.
“Hi,” Iris replied.
“I apologize for bothering you, but could you pass me a book from the higher shelf? I can’t reach it. I haven’t quite grown up to that height yet,” the girl said, jokingly.
“Yes, of course.“ ”Which one?”
“That one, with the black cover.”
Iris recognized the book right away: a poetry collection by Petre M. Andreevski. She smiled, reminiscing about all the times she had read it. “I’m Iris,” she said, handing Nevena the book.
“Nevena. Have you read the book before?”
“Yes, many times. I had to read ‘Pirej’ in high school, and then I realized I wanted to read everything written by Andreevski. It’s really worth it. He wrote so honestly about the endurance of our people, about love, about his childhood.” She continued discussing the book’s contents for a few more minutes. When she realized she had been talking non-stop, she smiled and stopped mid-sentence.
Nevena gently caressed the cover as if she were stroking it. “Would you like to grab some coffee? My friend was supposed to come, but she just canceled on me.”
“Yes, it would be my pleasure,” Iris answered, without thinking too much. Simultaneously, she was taken aback by how quickly events were unfolding. . A million questions raced through her mind.
Did Nevena get to the bookstore by herself, or did someone assist her? If she came alone, how did she navigate the cobbled streets? Should I offer my help, or would that offend her?
How old is she? What happened for her to be in a wheelchair? They settled in the café within the bookstore and ordered two coffees. As they talked, they quickly realized they had a lot in common. After some time, Iris was overcome with an overwhelming sense of peace.
They started talking, and it didn’t take long for them to realize they shared many similarities and common interests. As time passed, Iris was enveloped in a profound sense of tranquility, as if they could comprehend each other without the need for words—just a glance and a gentle smile sufficed. They traversed different subjects, from work and movies to books and preferred hangout spots, delving into details about their families. The conversation flowed effortlessly, devoid of the uncomfortable pauses that often fill the air with silence. Nevena was curious about Iris’s major, English Language and Literature, and wanted to learn as much as she could.
“So far, I’m happy. For the past 2 years, everything has been going as planned. I would love to have more extracurricular activities, though.
I’ve been searching for youth activism organizations, but I haven’t come across one that feels like the right fit for me. Have you considered enrolling in college?“
Nevena gazed down at her cup of coffee, absently stirring it with the teaspoon. Her expression turned thoughtful, and a hint of sadness appeared in her eyes.
“To be honest, I really wanted to, but when it was time to enroll, I had an accident and couldn’t go through with it,” she explained. “And now, even if I wanted to, our faculties lack the necessary facilities. The real question is whether there’s one with proper accessibility at all.”
"What do you mean by 'no accessibility'?" Iris asked, feeling completely perplexed about the topic she had unwittingly touched upon.
“There are no elevators, and there are no ramps for me to use. They lack physical accessibility, and there was no option for online lectures.“
As Iris took a sip of her coffee, she felt those last words hit her like a jolt. She had never considered this before. Her mind started to race, thinking of all the places in Skopje without proper accessibility.
She felt a wave of shame wash over her. “How could I have been so selfish, to not even think about these things? Am I so oblivious to everything that doesn’t directly affect me? She asked herself.” She asked herself.
In an attempt to pierce through the unintentional veil of silence, she surprised herself with the question she asked: ‘May I ask what happened? I mean, about the accident?’ I mean, about the accident?“
“I was in a car accident. When I woke up, I couldn’t feel my legs. The doctors told me that there might be some improvement with extensive physical therapy, but they advised me not to get my hopes up,” Nevena explained, finishing the sentence with a deep sigh.
She narrated the small details and incidents with a steady voice, using only subtle gestures, maintaining a steady and neutral pace. Though she wanted to delve into further detail, she sensed that the moment wasn’t quite right.
“I’m really sorry you had to go through that,” Iris said, unsure if her response was appropriate.
"I feel the same way. But honestly, many years have passed since then, and the list of things I can't do is short. I love my life and I'm grateful for everything I have."
Iris wanted to learn more, but she needed to head home. She remained silent for a few moments, grappling with a mix of admiration and helplessness.
“Would you like to meet again sometime?” Iris asked.
“I have to leave now, but I’d love to hear more of your story. Do you need any help getting home?”
“No, thank you, I can manage on my own. We can meet again tomorrow, same time, here.”
“That works great. It was really nice to meet you.”
After they parted ways, the air seemed filled with possibility and hope, leaving Iris and Nevena with the feeling that their paths hadn't crossed by chance, but rather to ignite something beautiful and powerful that was yet to unfold.
Георгина Коминовска
Автор на блог - серијалот „Шарени различности“
