Author: Martin Erlić

The countryside near Pridraga basked under a gentle sun. The town buzzed with stories of five young men who’d arrived from a neighboring village. Amongst them was Martin, with a nervous glint in his eye, and his four cousins, including the boisterous Vrater. Martin was 23 and the journey was crucial. He remembered the Church… Continue reading A Proposal in Pridraga

At the edge of our world, where village life melts into the wild, a hunter’s lodge perched – a beehive of noise that night. Local heroes gathered, marking the anniversary of Operation Storm. A bare-knuckle, tooth-and-nail defiance that finally laid the war with Serbia to rest. Center stage was a character, as round as a… Continue reading Operation Storm

Summer is in full swing, and the watermelon is ripe and ready. I had a hankering for a slice, just enough to savor the sweet, refreshing taste. But with dida, a slice was never just a slice. We stood over the sink, the enormous watermelon between us, and dida’s eyes were alight with a determined… Continue reading Over the Sink

I wandered into the kitchen, hungry and with a craving for something warm and cheesy. Macaroni was on my mind, and as I opened the fridge to gather the ingredients, dida looked over, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Beba je se ogladnila,” he said mockingly, a knowing grin on his face. The baby got hungry.… Continue reading Beba Je Se ‘Gladnila

“Pusti vodu,” dida called to me, pointing at the water hose as I was heading out for a walk. He wanted to garden, and now, my walk was on hold. I turned the tap on, feeling a pang of irritation. This wasn’t the first time my plans had been derailed by a seemingly trivial task.… Continue reading Let It Flow

The sun was setting, and the wood wasn’t going to cut itself. I had steak in the oven, but my dida, a no-nonsense kind of guy, insisted we finish the job. Baba was inside, probably mad as hell, but the work needed to get done. “Dida, dinner’s ready!” I yelled over the saw, following baba’s… Continue reading Steak, Wood, and Blame

Life has a knack for throwing you curveballs, and on a recent sun-drenched day, it pitched me one straight from Nikica’s farm. Nikica, a relative of mine, is a man of the soil and a cultivator of summer’s quintessential fruit. His farm, a vibrant splash of green under the Croatian sun, is his canvas and… Continue reading An Unexpected Exchange

Nestled in the heart of Croatia, our close-knit community thrives on predictability and comfort. As a programmer, my life often orbits around lines of code, a world far removed from the communal rhythms of our homey enclave. Not long ago, my work-induced indoor marathon caused quite a stir – I managed to miss the much-anticipated… Continue reading Of Code, Cheese Pita, and Camaraderie