Luka constantly saw these stares, and heard questions, worried or annoyed, like, "What's wrong?" or "are you using a wheelchair to draw attention to yourself?". And he'd heard it often enough to get used to it. Now he was not embarrassed by such questions and he was even ready to share the details. The wheelchair became his permanent accessory almost 7 years ago, and now he has begun to treat the situation with humor.

It was actually quite prosaic. Some scumbags ambushed him in an alley at night, and when he tried to ignore them and leave, they beat him up. Luka didn't take it seriously at the time and didn't go to the hospital, which caused the injury in his spine to progress and boom, both of his legs are paralyzed and he can barely move them. He usually omits the first part of the story.

Luka was well accustomed to life on two wheels and could leave the house on his own. He usually used public transportation for this. It was already evening, and the sky, illuminated by the setting sun, was bright orange closer to the horizon. Luka was hanging out at the bus stop, waiting for the bus, and there was no one there except him and some girl, probably barely a teenager. He could feel her looking at him and then looking away, and then he spoke to her:

"Your parents probably told you not to ask questions if you see someone like me, but... Ask me anything you're interested in."

He often saw the interested looks of the children and how the parents pulled them down. But her parents aren't here, and there's no one to burn with shame. Luka leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his chin on his fist, and leaned slightly in her direction, looking at her with benevolence and interest. With his free hand, Luka straightened his slightly unruly blond hair that fell over his shoulders. It didn't look like the bus was coming anytime soon, so he wasn't just chatting.