Cikoria

Dusk sets in the small and remote settlement in western Hungary.

Marta, carrying a bottle of Martini and a bouquet of plastic flowers that she’d just bought for her sister-in-law’s birthday arrives at the Horvaths.

Music clips flicker on a decrepit screen.

“…might trick me once, I won’t let you trick me twice…”

Marta is being handed a cup of cold coffee. Black, three spoons of sugar. She lights a cigarette.

“…freedom to us has always been a trick, freedom to you has always been whoever landed on your dick…”

“Where’s Erzsi?” Marta asks.

“In prison, she’ll return tomorrow.”