Visit Albania
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A postcard for Berat
On a bright morning, Flori held a postcard beside the Osum River. Across the water, white houses and rows of windows climbed the hill toward Berat Castle. ‘This picture needs a story,’ he said. Luna’s ears lifted. A playful breeze had already found the postcard’s corner.
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Whoosh!
The postcard flipped once, twice, then sailed out of Flori’s hands. He stayed on the broad stone path while Luna watched it bob above the wall. They did not hurry near the water. They followed with careful feet and four quick paws as the postcard floated toward the bridge.
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Across the stone bridge
The postcard skimmed toward Gorica Bridge. Flori and Luna crossed on the stone walkway, with the Osum River shining below. Round arches opened over the water, one after another. The postcard danced ahead, as if it already knew the way to the neighborhood on the other side.
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A lane full of windows
On the Gorica side, the lane curled gently uphill. White walls, stone doorways, warm tiled roofs, and flowerpots stood on every turn. Luna sniffed low along the cobblestones. Flori looked high toward the postcard, which drifted past one small window and then another.
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A view worth keeping
At a quiet overlook, Flori and Luna stopped. Across the river, the bridge joined the two sides of the city, and the castle hill rose above the houses. For one still moment, even the postcard rested among purple flowers. Flori smiled. ‘That is the picture,’ he said.
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Found in the flowers
Puff! The breeze tried one last time. The postcard slipped from the vine, twirled down the lane, and landed neatly in a terracotta flowerpot. Flori lifted it with both hands. Luna’s tail swished so happily that the red flowers seemed to nod along.
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The picture becomes a story
In the warm afternoon light, Flori drew the stone bridge, the river, the hillside windows, and the castle above them. Luna rested beside the table while the real view glowed behind the little picture. Now the postcard had a story—and they had a day in Berat to remember.