Under Midsummer Night’s Stars
Sindbad was strolling on the Buda Hills with his latest sweetheart on a balmy night. He had observed her praying in the Rascian Church three weeks before, because from women’s prayers an awfully lot can be learned about them, much more than one would think. Naturally Sindbad went to the church not to pray but to ferret out women. He crouched slyly in the shadow of a column and watched impertinently and with half-closed eyes the women he had singled out. While praying a woman’s soul opens up. Desires, regrets, tiny sins flash in the sea-blue, dark-brown and black-as-night glances that were even for Sindbad often impossible to follow. The sailor scrutinized their revelatory gestures, their habits, and stored up everything in his mind. Today it was a handkerchie
