We went to see Tasa and Olga Mladenović, my parents’ old friends from Belgrade. I remember their house bustling with people, mainly children. Lauren and our children were there, but so was Marko. There were several younger kids running around, as well, but I am not sure whose they were. I think Tasa’s daughter was there, too, but she was in her teens, as she was the last time I saw her some forty years ago. Olga was not there, though. She was to join us later. Soon after we arrived, we were served a very elegant meal. I remember huge white plates with stereotypical Nouvelle Cuisine ornaments. The atmosphere around the table was jolly, but Tasa was on the quiet and gruff side. We were all teasing him, I guess, and he was a bit annoyed with us, albeit in an amicable sort of way. The theme of Serbian and Croatian nationalism pervaded the table banter, and he was the brunt of many a quip. As a Serbian poet, he had contributed to the strife with a handful of incendiary poems. I was sitting next to him, and I made sure that he took all this in the best possible way. I would hug and kiss him from time to time. At length, he softened a bit. When we finished the meal, he got up and motioned me to follow him. Not far from the dining table there was a low table or platform made of ebony or some other almost black wood. On top of it there was a plate of thick glass resting on a gold-plated frame the same shape as the glass. The shape was odd, though. It was a trapezoid, whose smallest side was in the back. The front side was in the shape of a reflex bow poised for action. When I came closer, I realized that the glass was not resting directly on the frame, but on a layer of some translucent and viscous material, like Vaseline. “Watch this,” Tasa said and approached the bowed side of the glass. He put the fingers of both hands under the glass and started to pull upwards with all his might. “Gently, gently!” I almost yelled in alarm, and approached the low table myself. Crouching by the table, I lifted the glass with two index fingers. I woke up before I could see Tasa’s reaction, but I think he was stupefied by what he had witnessed.