EXTRACT: You go in. To the party. You hear the room before you enter. Glasses clinking, silverware, voices, the gramophone. The first guests are already here. Heads turning, everyone checking out everyone else.
You go in. Taking napkins and salted almonds. You feel … what do you feel?—scruffy, underdressed ... Full of seething, wormy, hollow feelings.
Who are you?
You know who you were:
Surname: Vadász. First name: Leo.
Address: 19 Museum Street—
But who are you here?
Female | 20s | Under 3 minutes Starts on page 14
EXTRACT: I won the school Art and Craft Prize the year I was fourteen. It meant a train-ride to the city. Milkshakes in a department store and a whole hour browsing the bookshop on Castlereagh Street. For a hardback of my choosing—up to the set amount.
What I longed for most was coloured pictures, like the book of Vermeer paintings my godmother owned. But even as paperbacks—which anyway weren’t allowed for prizes—art books cost too much.
And then I found it: Edible and Poisonous Fungi, with twenty-seven colour plates.
And within budget.