by Dragan Chausevac
I know not how men could achieve feats so great, as to create a city of gold without using an ounce of it. In the early mornings, before the sun kisses the ground, its rays shine through St. Alfred’s Arch. A harrowing reminder of what a true ruler looks like. Honest, empathetic, bold, and wise. Quarrels with the English do not concern me, we are brothers, if not by blood, then by heart.
Dubrovnik is a city to behold but once the sun hits noon, chaos erupts. Thousands of people, all with places to be, fill the streets. In my hometown, the narrow streets cry, while in Alparis the wide, broad streets welcome the many men and women. Trees ornate each side, giving shade to the children or the old and frail. The walkways are filled with magnificent mosaics, each stone placed with care and passion. Truly a sight to behold.
There is no beach, but it is as though there is. I name it the third Rome, it is truly worthy of God’s throne. In the evening, lanterns light the roads to Maximillian Keep, like embers dancing on a soft black surface. The Keep is not a building, it is art, in its purest form. Its walls stack high above the city overlooking all of its majesty. If I did not live in my country, then Alparis would be my destination…
