It’s strange how the creative process works. How the brain opens up while searching for the solutions and includes and uses every piece of reality that comes by.
So, I was in a beautiful village of Topolovo, almost deserted at this time of the year. Nice people of Postaja Topolove (thank you Miha and Donatella!) invited me for a week, to have place and time for writing.
And I wrote, and wrote and … got stuck. The hero needed somebody at this point, somebody who would…
Suddenly I heard a soft whine and turned around.
Ah, the dog!
So, the hero and his dog are…
The dog in the fiction got into the trouble, while the real dog got some salami and returned every morning for another slice.
Somebody up there in Topolovo misses me.