In a quaint village nestled in the foothills of the Stara Planina mountains, lived Grandpa Neno with his granddaughter Ginka. In his life, filled with simple joys and daily cares, the echo from the past suddenly sweeps in - the Cyundapp KS750 motorc...
Grandpa Neno lived in a quaint village nestled in the foothills of the Stara Planina mountain range. His daily life was relatively simple. He would wake up early to let his two sheep out to pasture, open the chicken coop, and only then take some time for himself. The old man was over eighty but took great care every morning to maintain his appearance, especially his twirled white mustache. After having a bite to eat, he liked to leave the house and head to the village pub to have a cup of coffee with the two remaining members of his generation, gossip, and reminisce about the old times and the military feats of World War II. The war had reached Neno in his youth when he was just eighteen. Although he hadn't witnessed the true horrors of war, he delighted in discussing the tactics of military maneuvers.
Grandma Nenovitsa had passed away many years ago, leaving Grandpa Neno's only company to be his granddaughter Ginka. She was a stunning, slender girl with long black hair and striking brown-green eyes. She was the light of his life. Her parents had been abroad for years, and her uncle was a sailor who rarely came home. Ginka had just turned twenty and spent most of her days reading. Something Neno found hard to comprehend was how one could stay at home and study all day, but Ginka had enrolled in some special studies abroad, studying from home and going for exams every six months. She spoke several languages and, when not studying for her exams, translated books or poems to add to Neno's pension. She took care of the garden and always made sure there was a warm meal on the table. It was just the two of them, but they lacked nothing.
One sunny afternoon, Grandpa Neno was sitting on the doorstep, enjoying the warmth of the setting sun and smoking his pipe when his ears perked up. Age had taken a toll on Neno's legs and eyesight, but his hearing was sharp as ever. The rumbling in the distance was too familiar to be true. It couldn't be. Neno grabbed his cane and, with trembling hands, stood up. Tears welled up in his eyes. It was the sound of a Zündapp KS750. Neno had spent many months on such a motorcycle during the war and knew its sound all too well. The old man stared at the road, which turned a hundred meters from his house, shivering at the thought of seeing his old friend again. Then it appeared. The same beauty, with a sidecar. But what in the world? Why was it red? To his surprise, the motorcycle slowed down and stopped in front of him. The engine cut off. A young man with blue eyes and short sandy hair got off and addressed him:
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Good day, sir.Good to meet you, young man - Neno replied without taking his eyes off the motorcycle.The sidecar's tire punctured. Is there someone in the village who can help?Across there, Stoyan the Combine. Go to him; he'll help you - Neno said through clenched teeth.As the young man walked away, Neno stared at the motorcycle, puzzled. Why red, for heaven's sake? Chrome parts, hand-stitched leather. Clearly, a lot of love went into it, but why red? Thinking about what could possibly be wrong with the motorcycle, Neno imagined himself in a red dress and a veil like from the old times and shuddered. It just wasn't right.
Shortly after, the young man returned:
I'm sorry, sir, Stoyan wasn't there. He will be back in an hour. Is there a place to grab a bite in this village?Neno was a polite man and would never leave someone to fend for themselves. He gladly invited him for dinner, both to chat and to figure out the misunderstanding with the color.The young man introduced himself as Kiril, a decent boy, an avid motorcyclist, and a lover of all kinds of retro vehicles. He had bought the machine in a nearly dilapidated state, but years of diligent work had restored it to almost its original condition. Time flew by unnoticed, and before Ginka served her renowned pumpkin pie, Stoyan called from the fence that the tire was ready. Kircho left but promised to visit again.
