Eros' begravning

Olga Janselius watches the world from her half‑open bedroom window, cataloguing a tiny skin irritant with the same meticulous care she gives to her lectures. A passing maid’s folk remedy involving “frog‑spit” becomes a quirky launchpad for her reflections on the uneasy balance between superstition and science. In this opening scene, the ordinary domestic routine swells with a subtly ominous undertone, hinting at deeper currents beneath the calm.

When a youthful laborer wanders onto the courtyard, their brief, flirtatious exchange disrupts Olga’s methodical pace. She instantly reduces her fascination with love to a three‑part study: the act itself, its preparation, and the conversation that leads to commitment. This analytical framework turns a simple meeting into a laboratory experiment, exposing the tension between her scholarly instincts and the messy pull of desire.

Yet Olga’s marriage, already frayed, looms as a silent backdrop to her intellectual pursuits. As she records the moments with a pocket watch, listeners sense an impending clash between her rational world and the inevitable heartbreak that follows. The story promises a poignant exploration of how a mind trained for facts confronts the chaos of love and loss.