Today in the taxi someone was again having a blowup argument. The other day it was a mother and teenage daughter. Today it was a young woman on her cellphone breaking up with her boyfriend. It’s like a cake that fell in the oven.
I thought about the Lord swiping Her translucent screen left to float people ahead or right to weigh them down.
Kafka said: for the first time I saw how untrue and childish is the conception of me that my mother builds up for herself. I thought I felt old powers, as though they had been untouched by the long interval.
During their argument there was a smell of petrol in the air.
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