Luka approached slowly. As he got closer, the man stood up. He was tall, silver-haired, and wore an old leather jacket that looked identical to the one hanging in Luka's closet at home.
Eighteen days of cheap motels, cold coffee, and the crinkled photograph taped to his sun visor. In the picture, his father, Jovan, stood smiling in front of a half-built brick house, a trowel in one hand and a baby Luka in the other. That house was supposed to be their future. Now, it was just a skeleton of concrete overgrown with weeds in a village no one visited anymore. Moj otac - 18 epizoda HD02:23:33 Min
The clock on the dashboard read 02:23:33 when Luka finally killed the engine. The silence that followed in the cramped cabin of the old truck was heavier than the winter fog rolling off the Danube. Luka approached slowly