Wednesday July 23rd, 1975

Night has left a thick fog in low-lying areas of Belgrade; a fog that isn't sure whether it wants to be rain, dew, or saltwater.
At first the sun's rays were set to '1', and the fog could still get carried away. But then when we turned the sun up to '2' and then '3', the fog evaporated, leaving our city this beautiful blue morning.

Old Belgrade has left towards New Belgrade.
New towards Old, like every morning.
The bridges are packed.
Both sides think that the grass is greener on the other.
When they figure out its not, they will return from whence they came.

At the Belgrade bus station, a time-out has been requested. Busses have gathered around their dispatchers and are making an agreement to change to presing. 
The Great War island is, like a dog, shaking off the water it was up until recently in.

The Revolutionary Boulevard* is flowing downhill, as usual this morning.
Motors are purring, exhaust pipes are gurgling, brakes are squeaking.
On both sides of the street red, yellow, and green traffic lights have sprouted.
What a nice summer morning.

Before whatever will happen happens, the Sava twists and primps like its her first time, like she doesn't know that around the bend the old tramp Danube awaits.

Its time for slatko* and water, which are only consumed by undeveloped and retarded parts of the city.





*Serbian name is 'Bulevar Revolucije'. Has since been renamed to King Aleksandar Boulevard
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bulevar_kralja_Aleksandra

*Slatko is a whole fruit preserve traditionally consumed along with water in the mornings.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slatko