Korniss Péter - Erdős Virág: Courtyards - Our Budapest (Budapest, 1993)
No. 3, ground floor. The cellophane cover of the jar tears off in a strip and hangs loose. She pokes in the jar, the shaft of the tin spoon clinks against the glass rim. She cautiously removes the frostwhite spots from the surface and knocks the spoon on a piece of paper to tap off the mould. Takes a spoonful from the bottom of the jar. Brings the spoon to her mouth. Fibres crumble lazily. Bits of apricot. No. 3, second floor. He turns off the cock. Looses the strap and places the watch on the soap-flecked edge of the lavabo. A pale rose stripe left on his wrist. Bends over the water. Pokes his finger in it. Lukewarm. Steps in slowly. Squats. Sits down. Watches the scum run over the edge of the tub. No. 4, second floor. She takes it gently in her arms. Rocks it. Hums a tune. Puts it down. Searches the drawer. With a pair of nail scissors cuts up the stitching. Tears off the arm. Shakes it. Oats pour on the floor. No. 3, third floor. He opens the butter-paper bag. Slices of cheap sausage. Peels them with his teeth. Plies them. Bites, chews. No. 5, second floor. She reaches behind her. Sets the pillow right. Leans back. Stares at the wall. No. 2, ground-floor. Knit one, purl one. Knit two. Knit. Knit. Someone standing in the yard. Head lifted. Looking round. 6
