• Sand and Foam

A new store opened on the outskirts of Budapest, we heard, they had a very rare LP from Donovan. I went there with H.Z., we lifted some of it on the spur of the moment, because no one of us had so much money, but we had to have it. We were grinning, ducking, and running. We bought some hard alcohol, we were drinking it directly from the bottle on the street, while we were admiring the view of an inexpressibly wonderful sunset after the rain in a strange light. The sun was going down magnificently behind the rambling fume out of the long, thin chimneys of a factory in the distance. Deep in thought we already listened to the newly gained music. /Wasn’t that romantic?/