Searching for Stolen Love Read online

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  Svetlana ran away as fast as she could during the night, heading directly for the City of Budva, while its lights illuminated the horizon from a distance. She heard the machine-gun fire and exploding grenades at Sasha's mansion and then the approaching police sirens in the distance. Running until she reached the bus station, she hopped on the next bus to Bar, Montenegro.

  Bar didn’t attract the tourists, but it was the main seaport of Montenegro, and she planned to travel on its railroads that linked the other major cities of the former Yugoslavia.

  Svetlana arrived at the main rail station in Bar at dawn. Standing in line at the ticket agency, she scanned the various destinations. Then she saw a city in Greece listed towards the bottom. She became intrigued and decided that would be her next stop, starting a new life in Greece.

  Svetlana roamed the cities of Greece until she reached Athens, but didn’t know what to do. She had no education, no skills, so she accepted the only job she could find. She worked at a gift shop at the foot of the Acropolis, directly across from Hadrian's Library.

  Svetlana became the best sales person the shop ever employed. Sales doubled after Svetlana started working there as she wooed over the tourists. Young men were particularly susceptible to her sales pitches. She cajoled and sweet-talked the foreigners into buying loads of Greek alabaster statues and trinkets.

  Svetlana chose Athens because of its long, rich history. She had read about the Roman and Greek histories, and she would smile as she walked by Hadrian's Library. The Roman Emperor, Hadrian, paid for the construction of Hadrian's Library in 132 AD. At that time, Athens was a Roman province, and the Romans respected Greek culture, arts, and literature, becoming the pinnacle of class and achievement.

  Before she entered the shop, she would look on top of the Acropolis at the complex of ancient temples. She loved the old Temple of Athena.

  Svetlana often stood outside the door of the shop. She stood by one of the paths that led to the Acropolis. She would smile at the tourists as they walked by, and some tourists couldn’t resist her, as they strolled by the gift shop.

  Svetlana stayed in Athens because Greek culture fascinated her and she loved the story of Athena, her inspiration. Athena, the goddess of strength, wisdom, warfare, and reasoning, was the daughter of Zeus, and hence the name of the city became Athens, Greece.

  After a long day at the gift shop, Svetlana would leave the shop at dusk. Exiting the shop’s door, she would gaze up at the Acropolis. Under the darkness of the night, orange lights illuminated the ancient structures of the Acropolis against the backdrop of the city with its twinkling lights.

  When she had a day off from work, she would trek up the Acropolis. She would read a little while sitting on a bench, or sketch a picture, or drink a soda, staring at the Temple of Athena. It became her inspiration, and she often subconsciously scratched the silver medal of Athena, dangling around her neck.

  Svetlana simplified her life by giving up the good expensive things in life. No more high-priced clothes, no expensive dinners, no strolling around in style in a new sleek Mercedes. She became frugal and dated a poor American, named John, who studied history at the University of Athens.

  John was dirt-poor, struggling to survive in an expensive European city. However, Svetlana didn’t mind. She wanted out of Montenegro, and Athens was a world away, starting a new chapter of her life in Athens. She didn’t mind riding around in John's broken-down Fiat. As Svetlana and John drove by, the pedestrians would choke from the car's polluted exhaust.

  Sometimes, she wondered if she only dreamt she worked as an expensive prostitute in Montenegro. Memories began fading and losing color, like an old photograph.

  Sometimes, she went with John down to McDonald's, several blocks away from the Acropolis, the decaying part of Athens. Homeless people slept on the streets while some shot up heroin in direct view of the pedestrians walking by. On the other side of the street from McDonald's, Svetlana noticed the prostitutes standing on the side of the road, luring the johns with their sensual rented bodies. Then Svetlana’s memories of Montenegro would flood her mind again with clarity and horror.

  She and John would walk around the shops and pedestrian sidewalks that circled the base of the Acropolis when they had some free time together. Occasionally, Svetlana would notice a dirty stare from a well-dressed gentleman as they passed by. Then Svetlana would distract John and glare at the stranger with a sour smile, so John never saw the exchange of angry smiles.

  On one occasion, as Svetlana worked in the gift shop, a well-dressed man came in with his wife, son, and daughter. He asked his wife and kids to wait for him at the outdoor coffee shop, the one across the courtyard from Hadrian's Library.

  After his family had walked out of the store, he blurted, “Do I know you? Have we met before?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we have never met,” Svetlana replied, feigning sincerity and confusion.

  The businessman persisted, “Have you ever visited Montenegro?”

  “I’m so sorry, but I don’t know where Montenegro is,” Svetlana pleaded innocently, hoping the probing questions would end.

  The businessman stopped his interrogation, and instead he strolled around the gift shop and bought 100 euros of statues, including an exquisite marble chessboard with hand-carved pieces.

  As Svetlana wrapped his gifts, he gazed and gawked at her suspiciously. Pausing at the door, the man turned and studied her one last time. Then he left and never returned.

  Svetlana suspected John would discover her foul past in a matter of time, but she planned to hide it from him as long as possible. Who knew? If John asked her to marry him, Svetlana might say “yes.” If she traveled to America, then she could visit Yelena and ensure Keith was treating her right.