Kafka Berries by Chipka
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Description
Behind them, a fortress lies in ruins with little more than the stubborn outlines of fallen walls to mark where—once—it stood in defiance and rakish grace. In the rearward distance, the ramble of a castle stands around the up-thrust pinnacles of a cathedral of dark and Gothic pedigree.
They are not interested in such things today:
“Castles and forts...sounds like a children's game.”
“It sounds like bloody history. I've had too much of that.” --A history of tanks and foreign occupation.
And so they tear their thoughts away from such things, despite the dark imposition of stone before and around them.
They have climbed a hill, side by side, cigarettes shared between them.
Below, in a direction obscured by trees and the faint whisper of smog, trams rumble along tracks like threads of spun silver, like strands of the strangest and most durable of spiders' silks. The cigarettes they've smoke are dead, their filter-butts abandoned in green bins as grimy as the undersides of sullen rats. The air is crisp. Something of winter lingers, though old frosts have long gone and new snows have not yet come.
They pause by wooden benches.
Broken glass catches the smog-tinged sunlight. Green glass. Brown glass. And hints of labels that read Kozel and Pilsner Urquell. One stares at the glimmering shards. His companion stands at a slight distance, entranced by the berries of a bush. He knows their name—in his own language if not in English—but he does not say what they are. His thoughts are elsewhere. He has the gift of silent abstraction.
When he speaks, it is wordlessly so. He simply reaches into his companion's left breast pocket, the one where he keeps the post card. Email addresses lie in blue and black scrawl on the back. He places the post card in the bush, adjusts it, but says nothing. He steps back to view the result of his handiwork.
His companion snaps a photograph.
Another...
...and Another.
“I want something to eat.”
“I want a beer.”
Such words are common between them. One retrieves the post card and places it in his pocket. His companion lights two cigarettes with a single flame and passes one to his compatriot.
They speak, quietly, though not of castles and forts.
Within an hour, they've descended the hill and picked their way through cobbled streets. They find food. They find beer. Later, they browse a bookstore, searching for used copies of dark and sullen tales involving enormous, misunderstood cockroaches.
****
And yes, as always, thank you for viewing and reading this and my previous posts.
Comments (28)
marybelgium
wonderful !
Kaartijer
Great work, great words!*****
MrsRatbag
It looks like a small, beautiful memory; the orange berries against the sepia tones, the hazy edges, the face burning in the center...and the narration, as always, is superb.
tennesseecowgirl
Your story of these two will not doubt stay with me throughout the day, and I will imagine what they encounter and experience together as they make their way along the cobbled streets side by side. wonderful work~
AndreiR
beautiful work! -- I am sure Kafka (one of my favorite writers) would like it too.
auntietk
What a wonderful story! You have such a gift for weaving a mood.
sema_fox
!!!!!!!!!
texboy
dark and sullen tales... time to break out the Kafka.... good work, Chip!
ladyraven23452
This one talks to the heart and the photo is so deep one could pick a time but it would fit so meany in this time and the past. A great work i really did love this one.
MrsLubner
Wonderful work you've done on this. Very moody and suppressed...
schonee
WOW!!! Well done...Excellent words and image
romanceworks
A most engaging story. I rather like the simile between Kafka and berries, as if both are to be savored. CC
Meisiekind
Simply superb! I will wonder with them past the ruins of castles and forts!! Excellent image and narration! :)
beachzz
You take me along on these journeys of yours, and I get to see such wonderful sights!!
Janiss
Oh, it's particulary outstanding Chip... I adore!
igorsv
Chip, great stuff!
rainbows
Sensual and beautiful, Chip, the writing is superb too. Hugs. Di. xx
SSoffia
AMAZING & BEAUTIFUL WORK :)
NekhbetSun
What an intriguing little vignette....awesome as always Chip ~ Hugs ~
Lunastar
Excellent work
photostar
Your inter-weaving of photo and narrative is spell-binding, Chip.
Heathcroft
Told with your unique style and illustrated accordingly this is a wonderful post. Dave
MagikUnicorn
Just Awesome Good idea as well
gunsan
Love the combination of elements in your image. I wonder how Kafka berries would taste. Bitter?? Geat writing.
Rainbowgirl
So here we have Franticek at last. Merged into the berries. What a great arrangement and photo, Chip! I like it very, very much. I think you have done some work to merge the colors too, to adjust them to the old photo of one of the greatest; and non the least you have accompanied the picture with words that are of 'kafkaesk' quality to me in their forlorn state. Ok, Iknow the name of the berries too, but only in my language ;-)
elisheba
Touching capture, and what a brilliant narrative comment that gave me instant vision of your charachters in my mind, and I saw the landscape, the ruins, the trams, too... Thank you for sharing this with us :)
kimariehere
loved the story and so beautifully done!!
mermaid
ah I just love this combination of shot and words...smile