This morning I went to one of my favorite pastry shops in the center of Zagreb. After the greetings, one of the women behind the counter put her arms akimbo and cocked her head. “You’re always so bright and cheerful,” she said with a big smile. “Ah,” I raised my eyebrows, “an old fool!” “Don’t put it that way,” she protested in mock sadness, “it’s always a joy to see you.” I shrugged my shoulders with a smile. “Thank you for your appreciation,” I added before I left the shop. The exchange started me thinking. I am bright and cheerful, all right, but the woman would be stunned to read my writings. An old fool, no doubt whatsoever.