This story takes us to the end of the eighties. Then I worked for an erotic magazine. The editor asked me to do a short interview with a person who had an incest experience. Of course, it was not an order, but if possible, it would be good...

Eager to prove myself, I threw myself into the research. Although I had a wide circle of friends and of all kinds and classes, it was impossible to find anyone who would dare to talk about it. You can imagine how it used to be when there was no internet, forums, or chats ... but freedom of expression was also at a lower level. Of course, incest happened in the past, but months passed and I still didn’t have a story.

All this time, I did a lot of research on this topic. and I came to the conclusion that in a family where there is no mother, the father fucks the daughter, or where a widowed mother and an unmarried middle-aged son live alone, so weakness pushes his mom and of course, she has to hide it. Or the case when a brother and sister play a little.

But who would dare to talk about it? Therefore, I thought that perhaps a lady who had such an experience with her father in her young days could speak about it. I was on the right track. I already had an appointment with a lady but she changed her mind at the last minute and didn’t want to talk about it despite my promises that everything would remain discreet.

One Friday night I was sitting in a cafe with my friend and after a few beers, I complained to him about the interview.

Bojan: “Ha ha, there was a Macedonian with me in the army who bragged about fucking his mother.”

Me: -”Do you maybe have his number?”

Bojan: -”I don’t know, but I may have because we all exchanged numbers from the platoon. I have a notebook full of numbers.

Me: -”Would you be willing to take a look?”

Bojan: -”No problem.”

The next afternoon, I was watching the football reclining on the couch when the phone rang.

Bojan: -”Hey, it’s Bojan.”

Me: “Hey.”

Bojan: -”I found the number from that guy.”

Me: -”That’s great. What do you think about giving me the number or maybe you call him and explain to him.”

Bojan: -”It’s not like I’m talking about anything with him, but I’ll call him.”

Me: -”My friend, I am grateful to you.”

Bojan: -”Then see you tonight?”

Me: -”Of course”

In the evening we met at the same place.

Bojan: -”Everything is settled, he was so happy that I called him, that he agreed without even thinking about it.”

Me: “Well, congratulations.”

Bojan: -”Here’s his number, so I just let him know the day before to arrange to meet.”

We drank quite a bit that night, which is nothing new. But this time I had a reason. On that Monday, I immediately went to tell the editor and instead of his enthusiasm, I got the answer:

“Well, where exactly in Macedonia, couldn’t you find something closer?” Do you know how much it costs to travel?”

Me: -”Just a train and some cheap hotel.”

He answered me: -”What hotel? You can sleep on the train!”

I was disappointed. I just answered briefly: -

“Ok, it doesn’t matter to me. This was not my idea, but yours.”

But the next day I was on the train to Skopje, where of course it was impossible to sleep, but they even managed to find me a room there. Of course, I wasn’t expecting a four or five-star hotel, so I wasn’t surprised when looking for the address, I came to a restaurant that was renting out a few beds upstairs. Probably designed for those who overeat and get drunk so they can’t go home.

It was agreed that Trajče would pick me up after work. After 3 p.m., I went down to the restaurant and waited at the bar. As soon as a man in his late twenties appeared at the door, wearing jeans and a tracksuit, I knew it was Trajče. He was a tall, well-built guy with dark hair and a big moustache. I thought we would talk either in the restaurant or in the room, but Trajče suggested that we go outside, sit on the bench, drink beer and watch River Vardar while we talk.

I bought 4 bottles of local beer and we sat on the bench. First, I explained to him that our conversation would be completely discreet and I turned on the recorder. It was the first time I used a dictaphone if that’s what you can call the box into which the cassette was pushed.

Trajče was not very eloquent and his knowledge of the Serbo-Croatian language was not very good either, so our conversation was reduced to my long questions and his short answers. I asked him hundreds of questions, down to the smallest detail, so that two tapes were filled with material for a story. After the conversation, we went for a few more beers and the next day I returned to Zagreb.

I completed a story and gave it to the editor. Of course, there was no place to publish it in its entirety, so he shortened it and extracted only the most important parts. He changed the names and places, moved the action to Slovenia and the story was published on half a page. Since I keep all the old issues, re-reading the story, I can almost remember every detail of the conversation with Trajče, and that’s how this re-issue of a story from the past comes about.

In the south of, now called, North Macedonia, on the very border with Greece, lived the Trajkovski family. At the time the village had about 500 inhabitants, but most of them lived in houses scattered around the centre of the village for kilometres. In the village, there was a shop, an inn, school of the first four grades, a small clinic and a community centre. The bus ran several times a day. Apart from local people, only soldiers from the nearby guardhouse could be found in the village.

The Trajkovski family lived 4 kilometres away from the village. Typical mountain village life characterized this family. The head of the family, Goce Trajkovski, worked as a woodcutter in the local forestry. Considering their way of life, his income was enough for the family to live normally. Having completed 4 grades of elementary school, Goce did not want a different life anyway.

Elena Trajkovska was also a typical villager. A very hard-working woman who originates from Greece, from the vicinity of Thessaloniki, whose family fled to the north a long time ago because, like the Aegean Macedonians, they did not want to be assimilated into the Greeks, so they preferred to become Yugoslav Macedonians.

Despite living in an isolated place, Goce and Elena were very social. Goce was regularly in the village, they visited friends and relatives and regularly came to local parties and various events.

Little Trajče finished elementary school in a village 10 kilometres away, and then his father Goce decided that it was better to place him in Skopje in a student dormitory where he enrolled in a secondary construction school for a mason rather than to travel daily by buses that would often cancel lines to their village during the winter months.

The reason that Trajče was an only child, he could not tell me exactly. We only know that Elena once had a spontaneous abortion and was in the hospital for a long time. After that, she could no longer conceive.

The first year in Skopje was not easy for Trajče. Apart from adjusting to city life, he will never forget when he received a telegram to return home because his father was injured at work. Goce was pinned by a tree and there was no escape.

Like it or not, Trajče had to become a man before his time. Normally, he would only come home for holidays, but now he also came home on weekends because Elena had too much work to do. Over time, he liked the city life and went home only when he had to. The hardest thing for him was to spend the summer holidays at home, but then there was the most work in the countryside.

Trajče tried the pussy in the last grade of high school. He was eighteen. It was a girl also from the student dormitory a year older than him. Probably everyone from that dormitory had their first experience with that girl. Except for those who didn’t ask her. By the end of his schooling, Trajče had sex a few more times, but he was not in a relationship with a girl.

As soon as he passed his high school graduation, he already knew which companies he should apply to for a job, and everywhere they told him that he could immediately start working seasonally and that after he finished the army, he would be hired permanently. It didn’t suit him because there was a lot of work at home in the summer and he wanted to rest while he was waiting to be called up for the army.

In the summer, it is very hot there, and Trajče and his mother Elena spent the whole day working. Mowing hay, feeding livestock, cutting wood, repairs, hoeing ... they did it all together.