After Kafka

Fellowship

We are twelve friends. One day we came out of a house one after the other: first one came and placed himself beside the gate, then the second came, or rather he glided through the gate like a little ball of quicksilver, then came the third, then the fourth, and so on. Finally we all stood in a row. People began to notice us, they pointed us out and said: Those twelve just came out of that house. Since then we have been living together; it would be a peaceful life if it weren’t for a thirteenth one continually trying to interfere. He doesn’t do us any harm, but he annoys us, and that is harm enough; why does he intrude where he is not wanted? We don’t know him and don’t want him to join us. There was a time, of course, when the twelve of us did not know one another, either; and it could be said that we still don’t know one another, but what is possible and can be tolerated by the twelve of us is not possible and cannot be tolerated with this thirteenth one. In any case, we are twelve and do not want to be thirteen. And what is the point of this continual being together anyhow? It is also pointless for the twelve of us, but here we are together and will remain together; a new combination, however, we do not want, just because of our experiences. But how is one to make all this clear to the thirteenth one? Long explanations would almost amount to accepting him in our circle, so we prefer not to explain and not to accept him. No matter how he pouts his lips we push him away with our elbows, but however much we push him away, back he comes.