Eugene

A true story from Hungary

By: Eugene (30 Nov 2000, Thursday)

A number of decades ago back in Hungary, I lived in a basement room in the old district of the capitol city, Budapest. In my room, I had one of those low, street–level windows that are somewhat recessed into the outside wall, are always covered with grime and are hardly noticeable from the outside. I used to sit there peering outside at the legs of passers–by. In those days city woman still wore skirts. French panties, stockings and suspenders underneath was the norm. If I plastered my face against the window pain, and strained my neck, and a passer–by was obligingly near to my window, I could see up her skirt, see her white thighs over the stocking tops and sometime I could even catch a glimpse of her…