Korniss Péter - Erdős Virág: Courtyards - Our Budapest (Budapest, 1993)

A half-open space.

Early afternoon’s bright light from the left.

On the floodlit side wall a large window, the two transparently clean casements wide open and fastened with hooks. Crossbars, if possible. Background elevated on two steps like a stage. On the right a dark recess, a double-door chest pushed back into the corner, Biedermeier style, maybe fake rococo. A middle-size camping table in front of it.

The front edge of the board must exactly fit the broken white plain of the main wall. On the right side of the stage, at an accurately measured distance from the wall a camping chair with foam rubber cushions, facing the light with its checkered seat, a geometric pattern. On the left, leading to a steep flight of stairs, a door frame with an arched upper part, the door open at a strict right angle, stopped with a flat square slab of stone.

In the middle, in a finely carved niche a woman of proportional stature, in her thirties.

A pale gray pavement below, possibly imitation marble.

Silence for long minutes.

From the room behind the window, first scarcely audibly, a radio program is heard. “Classical Music at Noontide.” Debussy. Maybe Mahler. The music is growing louder, but outside no motion for some time yet.

The woman’s first move comes at a rhythmically intensified moment. First she amply massages the nape of her neck, then she lets her arm down, makes circular motions with her head. She leans forward from the niche, looks round. She watches the chair for a considerable time. She squats down. Sits on the sill of the niche, supports herself on her palms, then hops down cautiously and lightly.

Now she is standing on the pavement.

The music grows still louder.

She lightly rubs her palms against each other and watches the fine specks of stone dust glitter in the light. She steps easily and unstrained to the chair.

The scene darkens. The music continues for some minutes, and then abruptly and unattended, it stops.

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