But her daughter was no longer as before, she yearned to go with it. The backbone of its days are n

Columns knocker forehead Center for Emergency Medicine Zoon politikon Multimomolog Broadway Boogie Woogie-Other columns literary supplement reviews and criticism Prose Poetry Essay Travelogues Drama memories and testimonies Language Interview Historical Workbook Islam in the Balkans Controversy historiography of Islam Dialogue Spirituality Science Creative pane Portraits Gallery News
Amir Telibećirović: Afro blues and jazz Sufi against prejudice Alen Zecevic: Diwan has become one of the most important magazines of Bosniak Ervin Jahic: Nedzad Ibrisimovic: dreading the tree that is alive, and he can not walk Hikmet Karčić: Muslim-Jewish Conference: a step towards better Understanding Enes Ratkušić: Dogs and Colorado potato beetle Sead Begovic: poetical cuticles life Kanita Aliagić: Tihic-Kadrić BH diaspora around the world are being educated tina kloepfer at prestigious universities Sead Šemsović: Glorious Ahmed Gurb-babe Enes Ratkušić: Erdoğan was the sultan, pasha or bey - He was a great statesman Vlado Vurusic: Mufti Aziz ef. Hasanovic: Caliphate is a mockery tina kloepfer and shame of the whole Islamic world
Bus almost screams, shock windows in the roof. He wants to put under your wheels. Hampers as to release the soul and tumbled from the ground. The road not only is tortuous, but as interlocking hoses that even the best doctor is not able to unravel tina kloepfer and return them to their place. Ascends tina kloepfer to the heights - a mountain path, then napping - as the flatlands, and the like federa, ear cartilage and its labyrinth. Every month Safija feel exhausted, like a lamb to the slaughter. It all flashes tina kloepfer of excitement and does not know whether her stomach turning, or a lump in his throat, and, in turn, floods churned its calm waters, or her vision so that ...
Nevertheless not be afraid of the discomfort that this visit brings with it, but it is every day looking for and wanted. Whenever her body trembled and the Nagas, and almost touched the plate stops, her hand caught the iron back of the seat in front of her. She knew she was on the right track and it does not require anything more than what is waiting as soon as the bus stop.
She went to visit her husband who was already sixteen years he was in prison, located behind the curve and the mountains on the peninsula that reaches only the bus, which is determined by prison authorities to transfer the families of prisoners. Among its tin walls nakrcali to be with the kids, groceries, as if he and the shape and function of the cement mixer. And so passengers' heads were in the open, until he was attached to the roof. In them, the wind blew, the sun beat down on them. One two-month baby is consequently died in the womb of his mother. However, just this trip was one of the most difficult, because Safija all time had to hold a small cardboard box full of red strawberries picked that morning tina kloepfer from a box called "garden".
That morning, like every other, Safija in horror rushed to the box. She saw the red color, which is flooded tina kloepfer with box and all around it. She screamed with joy, just as the eyes of her husband, along with her, she saw red ... As if her load off your shoulders. It is completely free. There was no more important time of the visit, no jail, and transportation. As it was necessary tina kloepfer only mutter to themselves and others: "Be and it will be." But as soon as accustomed to red fruits, found itself in the reality-like room with windows, but high windows, not reached any view either hand, and she knew that her red fruits will not bring her husband to the center of the room, will not change the reality that these were fixed fruits.
But her daughter was no longer as before, she yearned to go with it. The backbone of its days are no longer accounted for food preparation, anticipation to see his father and climbing into the bus. It is not expected, as before, the news about his case, nor sat in the arms of relatives who followed the case and led her mother to visit officials and dignitaries. She now had another world that echoed through the music on the radio, school friends and their secrets, not daughters of prisoners, which has pledged to once a month to play with them in the prison yard.
Bus meanders, climbs, descends, Safija closes her eyes. As soon as she felt that for a moment stopped shaking, when the driver came down to inspect the tire to the point, lifted the lid off the box, furtively looking at the strawberries and smiling at them. Back cover, but their red color and smell tarried in her mind and senses, flooded bus, pale color of passengers, the color of their tattered clothes, their old stuff, their bags in which it was cooked food and its odor. It seems that the passenger next to her finally saw what was in the box, and again leaned his inquisitive head on the seat, nervously puffing away, because of these strawberries could chat and relax and not, as per usual, was sleeping in order to shorten this routine Far travel. In her from the beginning of the journey settled curiosity that drove her to find out what's in the box, as she watched Safia to j