I have just noticed that I keep not only all the letters that I have ever received by registered mail from the Croatian authorities, but also the envelopes the letters have come in. My cupboard in my beloved’s apartment is stuffed full of them. One can never tell about such things. Perhaps the date on the envelope will come handy at some point? Or the stamp of the authority in question? I keep no other envelopes, though. Thus I just realized that the envelopes crowding the cupboard are nothing but an index of fear of the authorities in question. And I do fear them, no doubt whatsoever. This I willingly admit. So many years after my “return” to this dreadful country, the fear is deeply entrenched, as well. Even more, it is in my bones by now. Living in Croatia, you had better fear the government and its authorities, of which there are many more than you could even imagine. And they all love registered mail. To safeguard its psychological impact, they make sure that the envelopes are frightening all by themselves. The one I got this very morning spells it out in no uncertain terms, and in lumbering lettering: “Tax Procedure.” Whence my growing collection, of course.