Φθινόπωρο

A hushed autumn afternoon settles over an aging family home, where the creaking stairs and dimly lit windows become a stage for whispered conversations and lingering silhouettes. A resolute grandmother greets the enigmatic Madame Katigó, while a talkative parrot and the pale, almost spectral presence of a grandfather loom behind the glass. The household—filled with soft‑spoken servants, a sleepy aunt on the sofa, and children clutching rose‑leaf branches—bristles with a tension that feels both intimate and otherworldly.

Through lyrical, almost ritualistic dialogue, the story explores how memory, loss, and the pull of generations intertwine in the quiet corners of domestic life. Listeners are drawn into a tapestry of fleeting glances, hesitant touches, and the rustle of turning leaves outside, all underscored by a melancholy that lingers like the autumn wind. The novel invites you to linger in its atmospheric rooms, feeling the ache of what remains unsaid while the house itself seems to breathe with its own secret rhythm.