the joke
A plan, so I have something to hold on to. This year I will read all of Milan Kundera's novels, in order. There are eleven. He was born a few streets from here, in Královo Pole, in 1929.
The first one is Žert, The Joke. I read it in 1968, when I was fifteen, under the blanket. It is a much angrier book than I remembered. I underlined a sentence, and when I looked closer, it was already underlined, in my pencil.
Saturday market at Zelný trh this morning. Apples, a cabbage I don't need, and a věneček from the bakery on the corner. Chocolate. I don't know why. That was always Pavel's.