Coughka
Yes, I know Kafka’s first name was Franz, not Frank, but I’m following in the footsteps of his Brieffreundin Milena Jesenská—author, translator, and Nazi resister—who called him Frank in her letters. (Somewhat similarly, Edgar Allan Poe once referred to himself, in a letter to a female friend, as “your Eddy,” which tickles me.) And yes, right now I do have a cough, though not (I assume) because of tuberculosis. And I already had a lot in common with Frank!
I’m happy to say that my quest for literary recognition will advance by one step next week when I am published on the website of the Masters Review. Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.
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