• Cover Image

The Suffering of Being Kafka

By: Sam Vaknin

...st. There he rested, sheltered from the humid sun by peeling posters for lachrymose Turkish films. He pushed the crib outside the penumbral circle a... ...ilt for him a creaking wooden cart from remaindered construction materials. They painted it green and mounted it on large, thin-tyred, wheels borrow... ...wed from an ancient pram. They attached to it a partitioned table-top confiscated from the greengrocer down the lane. Every morning, forehead wrink... ...efully on a pebbled path in its midst. Then, sighing but never stooping, he would drive his green trolley – a tall and stout and handsome man, fair... ...ers came and pasted funereal announcements onto his concrete pole and the magic was all but gone. My grandma withered, dilapidated by this onerous e... ...s Hellenic nose made into a bulbous offering, befogged, only his toothy smile remains, then gone. The Seder was often celebrated at my grandparents.... ...r and grandmother. "Mother" – I was panicky now, but I knew not why – "Gabi and Itsik have gone and now Aliza, too! No one is left!" My mother froz...

Read More