Zwei Prager Geschichten

In a bustling Prague café that sits beside the Czech National Theatre, a famous mime named Norinski wanders in at three o’clock, his presence unsettling yet oddly comic. He becomes fixated on a crooked marble column and the hunch‑backed figure lurking in its shadow, whose penetrating eyes hint at stories yet untold. Around them gather a colorful troupe of bohemians—a long‑necked critic, a melancholic painter, a poet, a novelist, and a restless student—each nursing a glass of cognac or absinthe and trading sharp, teasing remarks about art, identity, and the weight of performance.

The encounter quickly spirals into a lively, almost theatrical exchange, where gestures and words clash like actors on stage. Norinski’s sardonic humor and the group’s eclectic viewpoints create a vivid portrait of Prague’s artistic undercurrent at the turn of the century, inviting listeners to taste the fragrant blend of satire, melancholy, and fleeting camaraderie that defines the first act of this intriguing tale.