ENGLISH 🇬🇧
In a small province where the winter is very cold with a lot of snow, the library was open and people who like to read and drink coffee in silence spent their time there. The walls of the library kept the cold out. There was a special kind of silence in the reading room, full of whispers of turning pages and the soft breathing of people escaping from the world between the covers of books.
Miloš was sitting at his usual table, near the window overlooking the square. The snow was falling lightly, and he arrived fifteen minutes early, like every day. Habit, he told himself. In fact he loved those first few minutes before the reading room filled up. Then he could hear his own thoughts.
Almost always at the same time, Ana sat at the table across the street. She always carried the same dark blue notebook and book carefully wrapped in paper as if protecting something precious. They never spoke for more than a few sentences.
"Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon."
It was their ritual.
That morning there was a small red cardboard heart hanging on the library door. The librarian went out of his way to celebrate Valentine's Day. Miloš only briefly looked up at the decoration and shook his head. Anna noticed him and smiled barely perceptibly. Both have long since stopped believing in the symbolism of that date. Miloš had a marriage behind him that fell apart in silence, without arguments, without drama, only with fatigue that crept in between two people. Once upon a time, Ana believed that she had found the love of her life, but the years have shown that love does not survive only on promises.
And so they accepted solitude as something stable. Not lucky, but sure. The clock on the wall read five in the afternoon when the lights suddenly went out. The reading room became even more silent than usual. A few people raised their heads in confusion. It was snowing harder outside and the entire street was left without electricity. "Looks like we'll have to wait," said the librarian from the darkness. Someone turned on the flashlight on the phone, but the batteries didn't last long. One by one people started leaving the room and going to their homes. Miloš stayed. Ana too.
The light from the window was weak but enough to see the outlines of the tables. In that semi-darkness, they sat facing each other for the first time without books raised like a wall.
"You know…," Anna said softly, "I've never liked Valentine's Day."
Miloš smiled slightly. "I loved him but I never had anyone to tell."
The sentence remained floating between them. There was no music, no candles, no big words. Just the snow hitting the window and the smell of old paper.
"I guess we've both stopped looking," she added, looking down at her hands.
"Maybe we were just looking in the wrong places," he replied.
The silence that followed was not uncomfortable. It was different from all the previous ones. It was not a shield, but space. Miloš noticed that Ani's hands were shaking from the cold. He took off his coat and quietly draped it over her shoulders. She didn't ask why. She did not resist. She just looked at him for the first time without looking away. There was no youthful infatuation in that regard. There was understanding. Two people who survived disappointments and no longer expected miracles. And yet the miracle was happening.
"Do you know," Anna said after a short pause, "that you're the only habit I didn't want to change?" Miloš felt his heart beating stronger than he was used to.
"I thought I was only here for the books," he answered quietly. "But it's true, I knew you drank coffee without sugar even though you never told me." Anna smiled sincerely.
At that moment, the lights suddenly came on. The reading room has regained its usual form: tables, shelves, properly arranged chairs. Everything looked the same. But it wasn't the same. Miloš reached out his hand almost unsteadily across the table and gently touched Ana's cold hands. Anna accepted it without hesitation. There was no need for big promises. They didn't talk about the future. They did not mention the past. They just sat there holding hands as the snow continued to fall outside. The power is back...
SRPSKI 🇷🇸
U maloj provinciji gde je zima veoma hladna sa puno snega, biblioteka je bila otvorena i ljudi koji vole da čitaju i piju kafu u tišini provodili su vreme u njoj. Zidovi biblioteke su štitili od hladnoće. U čitaonici je vladala posebna vrsta tišine, puna šapata okretanja stranica i tihog disanja ljudi koji beže od sveta između korica knjiga.
Miloš je sedeo za svojim uobičajenim stolom, blizu prozora sa pogledom na trg. Sneg je lagano padao, a on je stigao petnaest minuta ranije, kao i svakog dana. Navika, rekao je sebi. Zapravo, voleo je te prve minute pre nego što se čitaonica napuni. Tada je mogao da čuje sopstvene misli.
Skoro uvek u isto vreme, Ana je sedela za stolom preko puta. Uvek je nosila istu tamnoplavu svesku i knjigu pažljivo umotanu u papir kao da štiti nešto dragoceno. Nikada nisu razgovarali duže od nekoliko rečenica.
„Dobar dan.“
„Dobar dan.“
To je bio njihov ritual.
Tog jutra na vratima biblioteke visilo je malo crveno kartonsko srce. Bibliotekar se potrudio da proslavi Dan zaljubljenih. Miloš je samo kratko podigao pogled ka ukrasu i odmahnuo glavom. Ana ga je primetila i jedva primetno se osmehnula. Oboje su odavno prestali da veruju u simboliku tog datuma. Miloš je iza sebe imao brak koji se raspao u tišini, bez svađa, bez drame, samo sa umorom koji se uvukao između dvoje ljudi. Nekada davno, Ana je verovala da je pronašla ljubav svog života, ali godine su pokazale da ljubav ne opstaje samo na obećanjima.
I tako su prihvatili samoću kao nešto stabilno. Ne srećno, ali sigurno. Sat na zidu je pokazivao pet popodne kada su se svetla iznenada ugasila. Čitaonica je postala još tiša nego obično. Nekoliko ljudi je zbunjeno podiglo glave. Napolju je padao jači sneg i cela ulica je ostala bez struje.
„Izgleda da ćemo morati da sačekamo“, rekla je bibliotekarka iz mraka.
Neko je upalio baterijsku lampu na telefonu, ali baterije nisu dugo trajale. Jedan po jedan ljudi su počeli da izlaze iz sobe i odlaze svojim kućama.
Miloš je ostao. Ana takođe.
Svetlost sa prozora bila je slaba, ali dovoljna da se vide obrisi stolova. U tom polumraku, sedeli su jedno nasuprot drugom prvi put bez knjiga podignutih poput zida.
„Znaš…“, tiho je rekla Ana, „nikada nisam volela Dan zaljubljenih.“
Miloš se blago osmehnuo. „Voleo sam ga, ali nikada nisam imao kome da kažem.“ Rečenica je ostala da lebdi između njih. Nije bilo muzike, sveća, velikih reči. Samo sneg koji je udarao o prozor i miris starog papira. „Pretpostavljam da smo oboje prestali da gledamo“, dodala je, gledajući u svoje ruke.
„Možda smo samo gledali na pogrešna mesta“, odgovorio je.
Tišina koja je usledila nije bila neprijatna. Bila je drugačija od svih prethodnih. Nije bio štit, već prostor. Miloš je primetio da se Ani ruke tresu od hladnoće. Skinuo je kaput i tiho ga prebacio preko njenih ramena. Nije pitala zašto. Nije se opirala. Samo ga je prvi put pogledala ne skrećući pogled. U tom pogledu nije bilo mladalačke zaljubljenosti. Bilo je razumevanja. Dvoje ljudi koji su preživeli razočaranja i više nisu očekivali čuda. Pa ipak, čudo se dešavalo.
Znaš li“, rekla je Ana posle kratke pauze, „da si jedina navika koju nisam želela da promenim?“ Miloš je osetio kako mu srce kuca jače nego što je navikao.
„Mislio sam da sam ovde samo zbog knjiga“, odgovorio je tiho. „Ali istina je, znao sam da piješ kafu bez šećera iako mi nikada nisi rekla.“ Ana se iskreno osmehnula.
U tom trenutku, svetla su se iznenada upalila. Čitaonica je ponovo dobila svoj uobičajeni oblik: stolovi, police, pravilno raspoređene stolice. Sve je izgledalo isto. Ali nije bilo isto. Miloš je gotovo nesigurno pružio ruku preko stola i nežno dodirnuo Anine hladne ruke. Ana je to prihvatila bez oklevanja. Nije bilo potrebe za velikim obećanjima. Nisu razgovarali o budućnosti. Nisu pominjali prošlost. Samo su sedeli držeći se za ruke dok je sneg nastavljao da pada napolju. Struja se vratila...
