Short Composition
This group of small houses, harmoniously written on
the sky-lobe and onto the sea, with its beautiful analogies
of lines and colours, doesn’t allow any suspicion about
the big differences among the inhabitants, their competitions
about one woman who breaks the glasses in her kitchen
and pokes the broken pieces of glass in her wrist, while
the other, naked and with a water pitcher on her shoulder,
gazes at the mirror, and the third woman empties on the table,
off a pink nylon net, nine big, dead birds, a gift from the horse
rider. Outside, the neighbourhood women gather, watch
suspiciously, each other’s elbow. The men have gone hunting
since dawn.
Manolis Aligizakis 