"It's been almost two years since Otto and Prime Minister Miaoulis dissolved the revolution in Nafplio.* All the leaders – Tsochris, Michos, Botsaris, Zymvrakakis, Grivas, and the others – each important – were exiled. All of them! That was a defeat for democracy..." said the Teacher, wiping the sweat from his forehead from time to time. Inside the humble house, built with bricks and stones, the place was boiling with the breaths and sweaty caps of those present. And it wasn't just the heat; the narrow room had become smoky from the fumes of the Cretan cigarettes, and the dim lamp with the smudged glass tried in vain to light them. Nor was the air renewed in any way; what could the crack under the door do when the window shutters were closed for security reasons? And as if the suffocating atmosphere wasn't enough, there were also those terrifying games played by the tall, slender shadow of the Teacher on the damp walls and the ceiling beams, games caused by the yellow light from another source, from a candle that was almost melting on the table. The attendees, about twenty-five to thirty men, some gray-haired, others in the prime of their strength, and a few scruffy boys, listened carefully. Some were passing their wallets from hand to hand, leaving them on their knees, grabbing them again and again. One or two were straightening their woven trousers almost obsessively, the older ones knitting and unknitting their untrained hands in idleness, a young boy, on the table where the candle was slowly dying, was chopping tobacco and then sharing it with those around him... and again, passing the tobacco pouch. This had irritated the cat's pink nostrils, which was sleeping with one eye open, just in case, outside.
7
00
€
Delivery
by Wed, 12 Aug
14,00 €
shipping cost
Sent from Greece