A haldokló oroszlán

In a modest Budapest flat, the ailing priest Goszpelda keeps his mind from drifting into sleep by pacing a well‑worn circuit after each meal, from the window to the fireplace and back. The sparsely furnished room holds only a tiny oil lamp, a painted statue of Our Lady of Lourdes, and a large map of East Asia—reminders of a once‑fiery missionary ambition now tempered by frail health. The shrine’s quiet glow and the imagined horizons on the map give him a fragile sense of purpose.

The delicate routine is shaken when a famed professor, notorious for his materialist and evolutionary views, moves into the neighboring villa. Each afternoon their paths cross at the window, and Goszpelda watches the scholar’s steady stride with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Their proximity promises a quiet yet potent clash of faith and reason, setting the stage for a dialogue that will test the priest’s convictions and challenge the professor’s certainty.