Yesterday, as we crossing the street at Dunajska, before the bus station and with the cold air leaving our ears freezing, a little lady dressed in red poked me. Her hair was white, she was bent, she walked slowly. Yet she wore red, showed her existence in the most brilliant of manners.
She asked me about the way to a bus stop. I did not know where it was, so I took the easy way out. Nehovorím po slovensky.
The lady looked at me with kindness and started giggling as to show that everything was alright. It was light, youthful and joyful giggle. One that made everyone around her happy.