Ever since receiving my first invitation to a court hearing by registered mail, I feel slightly uneasy each time I go to the post office in Motovun. That was last November. The second court invitation reached me last January, also by registered mail. It only reinforced the budding dread. By now, the cheap, blue envelope plastered with all sorts of ungainly stickers and rubber stamps is etched deep in my mind. I feel especially jittery whenever I enter the post office after a lengthy visit to Zagreb. The probability of getting another invitation to court after so many days away from home is so much higher than when I am in Motovun that I have to watch my every step as I walk into the post office. But Mondays are rather hard on me, as well. Weekends are long enough for an appreciable jump in the probability of getting another cheap, blue envelope. And tomorrow is Monday. Yet another dreaded Monday! To wit, my wicked political enemies from Motovun to Pula to Zagreb are well ahead of me already no matter what happens with all my court cases for so-called libel. Why, they got me to fear even the post office itself. The very same post office I used to cherish for years on account of so many wonderful things that reached me by mail from all corners of the world.

Addendum (July 13, 2009)

“Anything from the court?” I asked Zvjezdana Flego this morning. She has been working in the post office for many years, and her father used to work there most of his life. “Nope,” she smiled. “They must’ve forgotten about me,” I laughed. “Don’t worry,” she laughed back, “they’ll remember you as soon as the vacations are behind us!”