In my search of cafés where smoking is not allowed, I am going to the Dubrovnik Café ever more often. Right on the main square, it attracts the best and the brightest among Zagreb’s many pensioners. Repelled by the usual guests, I go to the café when it is nearly empty, which is in the middle of the afternoon. I like to sit by one of the huge windows and watch the passersby and the buildings that surround the square. The two Neo-Gothic towers of the cathedral are a joy to see in the afternoon light. But I am never alone at my table, as would appear to be the case at first sight. My parents are always with me, for this was their favorite café in the Croatian capital (“Dubrovnik Café,” December 3, 2006). As my eyes roam across the buildings lining the square, I know that their eyes used to roam across them just as mine. The very same architectural contrivances also caught their eyes. United with my parents, I float in space and time. When I eventually get up to leave the cafe, I have a smile on my face. Looking through the pensioners at neighboring tables, I walk toward the front door as if on air.