
There are places in the Balkans where the day still does not end with the glow of a screen turning off. In the evening, when the sun softens the facades and the asphalt finally stops radiating the day’s heat, chairs begin appearing in front of houses. First one. Then another. Someone brings out a small wooden stool. Someone else carries a beer. Someone slices a watermelon. Someone simply brings silence.

There are tables for celebration and tables for negotiations. And then there are those third ones - tables for nothing in particular. They require no occasion, no reservation, no plan. It’s enough to sit down, place your phone face down, and order the first drink that comes to mind. Coffee, sparkling water, a glass of wine. It hardly matters.