Olovo // In the Future, We Will Kiss Through Rabbits

© John Bills

In the future, drunks will sleep on our shoulders. We will put up with it because living has taught us that making a fuss makes things worse. The drunks will be oblivious, their catastrophes buried under fermented fruit and metronomic snoring. In the future, the drunks on our shoulders will fall into the middle ground, helped up by everyone around them, responding to worried questions with glazy smiles and rolled eyes. In the future, our catastrophes will become personality traits. In the future, the sleeping will doze through their traumas. In the future, our annoyance will be buried under fake smiles and gnashed teeth.

The bus meandered towards Olovo at a benign pace, passing through the usual conveyor belt of towns, villages and abysses before settling into the bus station. I spoke briefly to the teller, asking about further buses to Tuzla and discussing the difficulties of learning Bosnian. In Bosnian. No, no lies there. She knew a little Turkish. In the future, we will find any excuse to mention the ones we adore.

But the bus station didn’t offer much more than idle chat and the opportunity to wait. In the future, our waiting rooms will be locked, and our toilets will be clean. I had time in Olovo, so I went off exploring, although that isn’t interesting enough to warrant a mention. Would I be writing about this if I had sat at the bus station all day? In the future, we will communicate in silence. It will take some learning, but we will get there.

© John Bills

Olovo is a small town, another point that doesn’t need making, but what’s done is done. Once rabbits are released, there is no returning them. In the future, we will kiss the ones we love through rabbits. The fear of myxomatosis will subside in a cascade of lips on ears and shivering spines. I stopped at a small bridge crossing the Krivaja. In the future, the flowers will be red, pink and purple.

Fewer than 11,000 people live in Olovo, and the town was shimmering. The sun was out, already fervent, and there was no respite. In the future, there will be no shade. The left side of Olovo was the same as the right, and the right the same as the left. Houses, buildings, closed businesses. In the future, our hotels will be closed, and our museums the same. There was a mosque, the Ahi Evran-ı Veli Kırşehir mosque, simple in its design. Simplicity is the key to the beauty of mosques. Boxed structures, minarets pointing skyward. Nothing more is required. In the future, our faith will be streamlined.

© John Bills

I stopped for food at a small ćevabdžinica, ready to gorge on grilled meat. In the future, you get the impression. You understand what I’m doing here. I’m basing a hypothetical future on my brief interactions with the city of Olovo. It is a shame to break character to have to do that, but you leave me no option. In the future, we will have no confidence in our own abilities.

The lure of Olovo is based entirely on its location, specifically the abundant forests surrounding the town. In the future, the forests will rise above our towns. Olovo is surrounded by green, green that has given the town its focus. It has been a commercial centre since the 15th century, a magnet for miners, merchants and craftsmen. The trees were exploited for gain. Today, the trees remain where merchants have vanished. In the future, we will cower in the face of everything beyond us.

In the future, the conversation will have no beginning, middle or end.

© John Bills

I returned to the spa next to the station for a coffee and a wait. In the future, our spas will have smoking areas. In the future, our buildings will be yellow, green and orange. In the future, ice cream will be peddled by bears. In the future, coffee will be better. In the future, everything will be fine. In the future, we will be forgiving, we will be kind. In the future, we will kiss through rabbits, and there will be no better feeling on the planet. Myxomatosis be damned.

I climbed onto a bus bound for Tuzla, moving seats more than I would like as returnee after returnee informed me that they were sitting there. I found a seat near the back of the bus and settled into the relatively short journey, eyes closed, dreaming of the future. In the future, we will sleep peacefully.