feminism's

beautiful Life excited

addressed Emina with a little uncertainty, but gradually with enough cheekiness.,, Here, I hy", Milan jumped and kissed her.,, Good God, congratulations, be careful not to take off together", the falcon sneered. Milan grabbed the bars with one hand and folded Emina on her stomach with the other. She was surprised when she found herself next to his face, wrinkled with puberty pimples. His breath smelled of tobacco and alcohol, and in any case, she was looking at him happily, rebelliously, solidly in his eyes, stressed by what he was going to do right away. She is so exhausted. It is three o'clock twelve and they are proceeding as if they had just begun. She feels that he is pulling her slightly towards him, he is almost going to kiss her, but also an unusual reluctance therefore. She rushed to the window to avoid their gaze, and soon she found herself in the center of attention. It is on another person's area. It is in Milan's room. He gives space to Sergej, who rests there when he comes from Zenica. Sergej left the Foundation of Expressive Arts when he found a new job in a school in Zenica and periodically comes to Sarajevo, because he cannot stand living in another city. She looked for him with her eyes. Alone, in a corner, sly, he looked at them with a pale smile of anger. Missing. It is there and it is not there. He is small, thin. He has a pretty face, with ordinary highlights, wavy hair of medium length and very prepared facial hair. White hands, thin fingers, similar to those of a lady. He is dressed in a particular way, incredibly. A bright shirt, purple jeans and a scarf around his neck. He has old cowhide shoes on his feet. A mixture of varieties that make your head hurt. Only a painter knows how to dress like that. Milan gently placed a fashionable kiss. This is his most memorable moment at home and he thinks about kissing her. She didn't answer, but she didn't return it all things considered. She just checked it. He understood what that deep, calm look with the green eyes implied. He let her go and Sergej looked at him with a smile. I said goodbye to Emina assuming this is over, and to you as you need them. The bars are exceptionally powerless, my mother. ",, All things considered, for now you won't all be kissing my new roommate like that. The facts really do confirm that she's new, and she's young, and she's lovely, and yet for now, nothing will go out the window, so how about we see who stands up.",, Where could you be, legends? When was the last time you kissed me, Milan?" Rien shouted and relaxed across him on the bed as if it were the most ordinary thing. Emina stayed close to the window. At the opposite end of the bed, Jasmina and Emin were sitting in each other's arms. They were having a good time in their own specific way. Somehow, they were uninvolved and, once again, always present. Emma, Emin's sister, was continually asking for something. She had black, wavy hair down to her abdomen that she kept tossing back. Tests. Emina didn't really understand who she was testing. Suzana drank a ton, but nothing was recognizable on her. She subtly appreciated her perseverance. She said that drinking is like running and that it's all about the usual preparation. Plus, Emina got off when Milan kissed her. She said to herself: Don't kiss on the first night with a man you've recently met, who has entered her apartment, and currently you have no idea how to do it. leave. She is warm. She feels drawn in by the f*******n windows, bound by the perspectives, dazed by the smoke and frail from those two vodkas. Were there a few or more? Could Satan know him? She sat down on the bed next to Suzana. Close your eyes, relax, it will pass, she said delicately in her ear. What do you care about, act as you wish. It is the least demanding method of fitting in. Act naturally. And kiss her, like a younger sister., which emerges in an interesting way. Emina was grateful for his words. She realized that he was right. In the end, she has to be what she is. Besides, what is she? A young woman who has just arrived from a humble community. A child of a mixed marriage. The daughter of a Muslim father and a Serbian mother, a teacher. Raised in a male-centered manner, under the focused eyes of her father's sisters. The aunts were modifications, especially when it came to cherishing. So far, no single person has met their standards. Since she entered high school and became a young girl, they have each used a precious open door to exhort her: "Be careful when you marry, don't lose face, it is essential if you want to marry well." That's kind of the climate. Also, when you marry, then, at that time, according to your needs. Be smart, give yourself to the one you choose as your partner. "wands and the leader who remains. This was Emina on her most memorable understudy night. She tried hard not to show dismay or fragility, and not to offer something that would make people think twice about what she believed to be something exceptionally unique. She made an extraordinary effort not to see her heaviness and its novelty in smoking and drinking, and that his roommate Suzana does not complain about taking him with her. There are seven of them in the organization who have known each other for a very long time. They may be high school students or have finished their studies, but they are still students at the most fundamental level. They live like students. They party a lot of nights. They would give anything to have a good time. "To hell with the consequences. As if, in the event of separation, each of the crews would go to prison forever. Perhaps they feared the existence of mature individuals. Emina, a first-year recruit, had arrived very recently from Bijeljina. One could have counted more the days since her arrival in this beautiful city located on the banks of the small and dirty Miljacka. It is beautiful because there is a spirit. Emina sailed into the secret depths of the city, late in the evening, when for some the working day could begin. A small room on Baščaršija, bars on the windows, everything somehow low, small, limited and closed, but at the same time warm and delicate. You can smell the scents of bureginica and hevabcinica surrounding her. The windows are open so that the thick plumes of smoke can escape through the barbecues, but the smells from outside are more ingrained. The moment she closes her eyes, she feels something tenderly urging her to rest. She is warm. Two vodkas are not a drink, but rather all she could need. She drank them to encourage herself, but they have simply desensitized her. She is languid. She is languid and her eyes hurt when she rests. Besides, she should be vigilant. Must! How could she ask Suzana or someone else to accompany her to the apartment? Can't. It doesn't work that way. He has to hold out until everyone starts to disperse. What to do? "What did you bring her to endure for?" " he said facetiously, leaning close to her and putting his hand on her knee. She did not move. ,, Let her understand how hard it is for us. " Suzana snickered loudly. "How old is she?" "Nineteenth, my dear. She is of legitimate age, if that intrigues you. Are you not, perhaps, a closely involved person?" she tested him. ,, My God, I do not know her. I have known each of you for quite a long time. To see another face is typical. "They continued to talk. About different things. Emina could no longer hear anything. The nuance of his voice and the piece of discussion he had with Susan satisfied her. She felt that she had found among them someone close to her. Moreover, she did not. I do not care about her hands. She dozed off. She fell asleep as calmly as if she were in the most pleasant bed. Suzana tried to wake her up around four o'clock to go to the apartment, but she claimed a little later that it was basically impossible to wake her up. Since she came to Sarajevo to focus on the regulations and how she moved into this small apartment with Suzana, she could not rest on the hard and uncomfortable sofa. She could not get rid of the musty smell that permeated the tattered fabric. was really old and ignored. Moreover, Suzana convinced her from the first day that what they alone have no cost. Emina is a unit. After her, her mother was never left in another state, which her father and Emina's grandfather were particularly pleased with.... I love the fact that she has a daughter, he said, allowing her to return to the confidence from which her mother came. "What was much more difficult for grandfather, his paternal grandfather went on a trip to Mecca and Medina and thus became a hajji, and Emina was the granddaughter of a hajji. She got it at a price. Her aunts most certainly appropriated it. From the hajiluq, grandfather brought her a cloth from which her aunt sewed a shirt. Thanks to her mother, Emina never needed to wear it. For her eighteenth birthday, her maternal grandfather gave her a shiny piece of jewelry, and in a small box, which no one saw, a cross with Jesus. She assured her grandfather that she would wear it just when she left Bijeljina. Because of her father, she never showed it to anyone. When she went to her grandfather's town, where he resided almost like a recluse, he invited her with delight. "Make "Beware of the big city." You will come across a multitude of things there. You have to know how to isolate the great from the terrible. You have to deal with yourself. I am constantly begging God for you in front of the symbol of Saint Nicholas, in case you do not take care of yourself." "I know, I know, you don't need to keep repeating that to me like clockwork. ",, You have no idea, you have no idea... They are protecting you too much now, as if they are blocking your light, and then they will just, in the short term, let you go out into the world alone. You are young and a little innocent. "I don't like them." You tell the truth, and it comes to you the same way. Excessively authentic. What if you crossed yourself before dinner? "You realize that I can" t. Father would be angry. I am not Serbian. ", Indeed, it was a Serbian lady who gave birth to you. ",, Father is not, and do not tell me again."She was resting. She imagined that she was going to see Grandpa to see if he was okay. She saw Grandpa lighting the fire with concern and not looking at her, as if he was embarrassed. "What are you doing?" She needed to ask, but she said nothing. She just saw his chosen face, overwhelmed by stress and bitterness, and a tear in a dark blue eye. What are you stressing about? Nothing will happen to me despite my desire for the opposite