“On Saturday afternoons I used to go for a walk with my mother. From the dusk of the hallway, we stepped at once into the brightness of the day. The passerby, bathed in melting gold, had their eyes half-closed against the glare, as if they were drenched with honey, upper lips were drawn back, exposing the teeth. Everyone in this golden day wore that grimace of heat–as if the sun had forced his worshippers to wear identical masks of gold. The old and the young, women and children, greeted each other with these masks, painted on their faces with thick gold paint; they smiled at each other's pagan faces–the barbaric smiles of Bacchus.” SunSummerGoldHeatMasks Book:The Street of Crocodiles Source: The Street of Crocodiles
“Now the windows, blinded by the glare of the empty square, had fallen asleep. The balconies declared their emptiness to heaven; the open doorways smelt of coolness and wine.” HeavenSummerWindowEmptyWineFallenEmptinessSquaresDoorwaysBlindedGlareBalconiesCoolness Book:The street of crocodiles and other stories Source: The street of crocodiles and other stories
