recurrent dreams of Franz Kafka

recurrent dreams of Franz Kafka

fiction
edward w pritchard


At street level three of us shoulder a large chunk of triangular cement that once was half of a proper sidewalk block. The block cuts the hands and scrapes the side of the face as one struggles to  carry it to the top of the twisting stair way through the burning building, to the roof and then back down to the street.

Three men are competing the race for an unknown prize. The prize is to be successful at the game of life. One must hurry in the race for the game of life is short and the sooner one completes the race through the burning building the quicker one can enjoy the spoils of a successful journey.

The building we race through is an old baroque mansion resplendent with the treasures of past generations. Typically the legs begin to give out first as one races up and down the steep stairwell. It's hard to catch a clean breath for the halls are dusty with age. Notice the sunset when you reach the open roof but don't tarry for the game is nearly over.

If you trip and fall racing down the steep stairwell likely the thundering block of plunging cement will injure or decapitate yourself.

Should you successfully navigate the treacherous journey up and down a steep stairway in a burning building balancing a heavy block of cement on your shoulder be not surprised if the journey seems inconsequential. Don't live in the past.

Watch the mystery of a burning building that endures generation after generation.