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“He took me between his knees and shuffled some photographs before my eyes with his dextorous hands, showing me images of naked women and boys in strange positions. I leant against him and peered at those delicate human bodies with distant, unseeing eyes, as the fluid of a vague agitation that had suddenely clouded the air reached me, running through me in a shiver of anxiety, a wave of sudden understanding. In the meantime, the haze of a smile that had appeared under his soft, beautiful moustache, the germ of desire that had stretched across his temple in a pulsing vein, the tension holding his features together for a momenr, fell back into nothingness, and his face departed into absence, forgot itself, and disintegrated.” — Bruno Schulz
He took me between his knees and shuffled some photographs before my eyes with his dextorous hands, showing me images of naked women and boys in strange positions. I leant against him and peered at those delicate human bodies with distant, unseeing eyes, as the fluid of a vague agitation that had suddenely clouded the air reached me, running through me in a shiver of anxiety, a wave of sudden understanding. In the meantime, the haze of a smile that had appeared under his soft, beautiful moustache, the germ of desire that had stretched across his temple in a pulsing vein, the tension holding his features together for a momenr, fell back into nothingness, and his face departed into absence, forgot itself, and disintegrated.