Michalis Ganas
|
|
|
The house is old, plaster drifts down, lathes break through the walls. Mother sits inside, while God's thumb waits outside, ready to crush her. Whichever room you walk through, things turn and stare like unwatered cattle. Behind the kitchen cupboards are more cupboards and still more behind those till you reach the depths of the wall and the old icebox. Here old Maria and old Leni cradle arthritic hands. The old, much-travelled house suddenly floods with memories and sinks. From Standing Feast (1978) |
|
|
| © John Stathatos, 2005 |
|
|
