I should have married Nikola. My mother said “marry Nikola! He is going someplace! His father owns three cows!” But no — I had to go and marry Vlaho instead. What did Vlaho have to offer except the ability to drink a gallon of ale and a mangy old sheep? I am a fool. I could have had Nikola. He would have given me a kitchen! With running water and a stove! I was pretty once. Sometimes I think Vlaho loves the sheep more than me. And then we ate it.
I’ll never forget seeing my new home for the first time. “Here,” Vlaho said, “you have your very own brick slab upon which to build fires from scrap wood! Here you can cook many meals in this iron pot and stoke ashes around slab bread. I have even provided you with your own saw for cutting the wood!” Rumor has it that Nikola moved to the city and bought shoes. Shoes! I could have had shoes!
