The weather was iffy this morning, and so I decided to have my coffee inside Klaudio’s café. Soon after I sat down, it started raining, indeed. At some point a woman on crutches appeared in front of the door. About fifty, she had heavy orthopedic boots, as well. Moving with great difficulty, pulling her legs behind her step by jerky step, she slowly reached the door. Leaning against the doorway, she first raised one foot over the single step. Then she heaved herself up on her crutches, and finally raised the other foot. Pushing her way forward with all her might, she looked around the café in search of the toilet. I pulled my chair out of her way, and she slowly dragged herself past my table. She even cracked me a smile of thanks. It was painful watching her and unbearable imagining myself in her shoes. Knowing that she had somehow managed to climb up the Motovun hill, I marveled at the woman. What stamina! What courage! What yearning! And then it flashed through my mind that I live all year long in the town of her desire.