The bench had stood beneath the chestnut tree longer than the building where Jasna bought her apartment. She first noticed it while waiting for a repairman, grateful not to sit on the steps. Months later a message appeared in the residents' group saying the bench should be removed. It supposedly attracted noise and spoiled the entrance's appearance. Jasna looked out at the man in a brown jacket eating an apple on it. Nobody else was there.
At the meeting her partner Emir supported the proposal first. He talked about property values and people who did not live in their building. Jasna asked when he had heard noise. He said it was not about one particular day. Another resident mentioned the bags the man kept beside his feet. A third said passing him made her uncomfortable. Nobody cited a threat, insult, or conflict. They disliked a presence they had not chosen.
Jasna made no speech. She asked them not to order anything yet and sat on the bench with a book the next day. The man moved to make room. His name was Salko, and he was waiting for his daughter, who cleaned apartments in the next street. His bags contained groceries for their dinner. His daughter disliked leaving him alone all day, and he did not want to stay in her small apartment in good weather.
When Jasna told Emir, he replied that not every man carrying bags was obliged to have a touching story. She agreed. That was exactly why they should not first turn him into a problem and then seek an acceptable explanation. Emir became angry that she spoke as though he were a bad person. She said they were discussing his proposal, not his whole character. He struggled with that sentence for the rest of the evening.
The following week a courier, two neighbors, and a man waiting for a taxi used the bench. Jasna neither organized nor photographed them. She simply opened the window when another discussion began and invited the residents to look. Removal was postponed. Some accused her of making a drama from an ordinary maintenance issue. Salko knew nothing of their argument, and Jasna did not think she owed him the burden of gratitude.
One afternoon Emir messaged that he would be a little late home. From the window she saw him beneath the chestnut tree. He sat at the other end of the bench, tired after work, while Salko peeled an orange. They were not talking. Jasna did not go down to assign meaning to their quiet scene. She put water on for pasta and left the window open to the entirely ordinary murmur of the city.