Translated by: Sibila Petlevski
A green coil and a pair of shoes on the sill. The wings of the casement are wide apart, a flutter of stale air and sweat between them. Sharp at noon, while the shot fired from Grich still booms and the storm frays the visible scrap of the sky; some girl’s laughter is coming closer and the naked body of the man in slippers approaches the horse herd of apathetic middle-aged women on the staircase of the neighboring building.