Incipit and AI generated Images

At four in the morning, the light in Benares is already sufficient to cross the city and reach one of the hundred ghats on the Ganges.

Wrapped in a faded sari, a thin figure, with knotted hair, a long bouncing braid and bare feet, slips out of the house and runs through the alleys of the old city. She pays no attention to the cow dung and the filth that stains the streets, as it is her habit on calmer days. She passes like the wind among the half-naked children, the lepers, the crippled beggars, the old men sitting on the sidewalk playing at hitting the spittoon.

From "Il Respiro del Fiume" by Patrizia Poli