CHAPTER 2
You walk through the alleyways of cutpurses, needles, corners and rats. But it seems nobody even tries to accost you.
It is so that you reach a whorehouse. A widow's peak greets you; beneath it, a cretin. You enter without paying him any attention.
Inside you are harassed now by the smoking of hookah pipes and dragging cigars; and the awful smell of opium and alcohol.
You're not here for anything like that, you think to yourself. I just want to see if she's here...
Where else would she be? You think, that a beauty like her pearly teeth and tourmaline eyes, entraps men as easily as gold, opium and drink. Here, you think, are all of these things and more.
A hot breath on your face; twirling fingers and a mistreated look beyond the swirling of tongues. A voice like a snarl: "You lug! Watch where you're going!" The smell of the opium is overwhelming.
"He's that eastern dog!" someone shouts. A man that looks multicolored sparks up his tongue and spits on your face "What do you want here?"
You explain. But it is futile. She is not here.
The same widow's peak greet you again. "You...need something?"
You explain. "Brother, you're searching for a pearl cast aside by your very self...If you've lost her, the cat is not coming back...You know how they go, swift as an arrow from the bow".
The dark streets welcome you again.