Elena: Everyone thinks we’re together.
David: I’ve noticed. Now I really don’t know why we’re not. Anyway, everyone already thinks that. I mean… what would really change?
Elena: Stop!
Elena: Even indifferent Maxim, who never gets involved in other people’s lives, says that you and I are an earthquake combination.
David: He knows we’re not. Oh, and you guys had an earthquake too.
Elena: It started with us. When was the earthquake with you guys?
David: I wasn’t born yet. 1969. Why?
Elena: I was curious how many years ahead of you we are.
David: That’s nonsense. My parents weren’t in Banja Luka back then. They lived in the countryside. My grandfathers weren’t born in the city like yours and Max’. 🙂
Elena: “Listen here, you donkey, let your friend Max teach you first who the natural allies of the working class are and who makes up the front of the working people, remember that.”1
David: Where did that come from?
Elena: Well, something from your side, we’re not together just like that.
Elena: So what are you doing anyway?
David: Oh, nothing. I’m doing a bit of work for us. Just deleted something. And my shift key was stuck. Then I felt a weird discomfort while deleting the symbols with the shift key pressed. I remembered where that reflex came from. On the Commodore, if you delete with the shift key pressed, weird symbols start appearing. I haven’t used a Commodore in ten years, but I still can’t delete with the shift on.
Elena: We wait so long for you to write something, and then you delete it.
David: I write a lot, stop bothering me. This year’s been good so far, with a few pauses.
Elena: It’s only the beginning of February.
David: It won’t stop.
Elena: Okay. Well, good for you.
David: What’s Max doing?
Elena: He’s started playing that game of yours again, the one you found at uncle Boshko’s yard. He’s fascinated by the fact that he can take a coin out and start a new game whenever he wants. He’s not used to it yet.
Elena: I have a business opportunity for you. If you have time between our game and if you’re not doing anything else at the moment?
David: I’m currently looking for something to do. I don’t have anything for which I get paid. What’s it about?
Elena: Do you know what obfuscation is?
David: No.
Elena: It’s when the code on a webpage needs to be masked, so when you read it, you can’t understand the logic behind it. It needs to be completely unintelligible. There are software programs that encrypt the code. I was thinking, you could write the encrypted code right away, they wouldn’t have to use software for each new version. They’d save time. You always write like that. It wouldn’t take extra effort.
David: Oh, that, I thought you meant a real job, not a joke. I think you’ll soon get a call at 3 AM from Yanko and me.
Elena: I’ll turn off my phone when I go to sleep.
David: We’re not all like you, practicing “clean room software engineering.”
Elena: You’ll realize one day that it’s necessary.
David: I’m not talking about the methodology. I’m talking about programming in a constantly neat room. 🙂
Elena: Not everyone is busy with obfuscation like you, so we have time to tidy up the room.
David: Once you learn a word, you love to use it all the time.
Elena: That’s not true.
David: It always is.
Elena: You’re making that up. You’re really boring today. I’m going now.
David: I dreamed about you last night.
Elena: How did you dream about me?
David: Elena is running in the city park in Skopje. Exhausted, she slows down and starts walking. She takes out a bottle of water and drinks. Then she walks a bit more. Stops, takes more water from the pipe, but instead of drinking, she holds it in her mouth. She stands by the path, watching the people who are running. Then, if someone looks at her chest, she spits the water from her mouth on them. And that’s how I see it from the side, as if I’m there too. It felt uncomfortable because of your behavior.
Elena: It’s nice that you dream about me. Doesn’t matter that it’s silly.
David: Wait, my brother is calling me.
David: I’m back. Looks like my brother is moving forward. He needs help writing his CV.
Elena: Didn’t he ruin every chance he had? You said so.
David: Sort of. Now he’s in a new political party. There’s a perspective opening up. These guys are in power, and he switched sides in time. He kind of imposed himself. My parents expect him to finally get a permanent job. So…
Elena: Well, that’s good. That means there’s hope for him.
David: If there’s hope, it’s in pro(mi)ls. I promised I’d write something.
Elena: What’s he going to do? You need to focus on something when writing a CV. Emphasize the relevant parts. Leave out the irrelevant.
David: My brother is going to work in the cultural sector. There’s nothing relevant, but I can leave out the fact that he asked, “Why are they singing our anthem in Spanish?” when he heard “Gaudeamus igitur” on my uncle’s graduation recording.
Elena: You’re rude. He can’t be that bad, how you’re describing him.
David: He’s not. It’s much worse, but I’ll stop talking about it soon. It’ll be interpreted as jealousy.
Elena: Anyway, that’s good. For your family.
David: Yeah. They’d like it if I were like that too.
Elena: Well then, let’s be happy for them. 🙂
David: Alright. 🙂
Elena: Bye, David.
David: See you.
1 Excerpt from a book by Branko Copic, writer born near Banja Luka.
