Some women leave no one indifferent. They are adored or hated, inspiring enchantment or disgust. The Gypsy was one such woman, like her patchouli soap.
Azra spoke Romani, the language of the gypsies, and danced the flamenco like no other. She lived with her family in a caravan, part of a travelling circus, telling fortunes everywhere they went. Azra was of marrying age and as beautiful as a flower in bloom. And while she was courted by the young men of every village, she preferred her freedom to love. However, that did not prevent her from seducing them.
One day, as she read the fortune of a dark handsome villager, she suddenly stopped, horrified. In his palm, she saw that destiny would join them; she was to be his wife. In a panic, she dropped everything and ran off into the forest. She ran for hours and hours and at nightfall collapsed, tired, hungry and thirsty. Despite an intensive search, her family never found her. According to legend, she turned into a swan and flew away forever. Gypsies are like birds – they cannot be caged.