The day Kafka found out his “condition” was a Sunday. Strangely enough, everything was fine when he woke up from his sleep. He woke up at 8 like every other Sunday, to a brightly lit summery morning. He made himself a fresh cup of hot Darjeeling tea. Kafka put two eggs to boil and started to spread peanut butter on two pieces of black bread. He was never a fitness freak but he liked eating healthy and looking good. He believed one should put at least as much effort in themselves as they usually put looking for clothes and accessories that would make them look attractive.
It was a bright sunny summer day. A beautiful day like this always made Kafka feel a little sad inside because he felt a strong urge to share everything that was beautiful or delicious or amazing with others. But he could not since he had recently moved to a new country for work and had not made any real connections there. So all the beautiful, delicious and amazing things, that the new place had to offer, made Kafka a little sad inside.
Only selfish ones could feel happy completely on their own. Kafka liked solitude but he was not selfish.
After having breakfast, Kafka went out for a run. It was a beautiful city by the sea. Green and blue all around, blue above. Kafka ran with no destination in mind. He liked running for two reasons. One – it made him feel good and helped him to stay in shape. Two – it cleared his mind in a way nothing else did.
Kafka ran through a residential areal. Beautiful houses with a patch of green on the front. Small gardens, well attended. As he ran passed the houses, Kafka’s senses were filled in with many different things. Colorful flowers, scent of freshly cut green grass, refreshing fragrance of detergent as if someone has just finished doing laundry, a tire swing hanging from a tree and moving lazily with the summer breeze, a football resting in the corner of one of the two goal posts set up facing each other in middle of a small garden. Kafka hardly saw anyone as he ran but strangely enough he felt that he was home.
This was a feeling, the small apartment Kafka was living in, could not provide.
He ran for five kilometers and then decided to go into a shop to get a bottle of water. He was drenched in sweat. The sun was shining bright. He sipped into the cold water as he walked out of the store. He decided to take the train back to his place. He walked to the nearest train station and waited on the platform. Everything was green around, the sun was shining bright. There were not many people around but those who were there, looked happy in general.
People appreciated the Sun more than anything in this cold country.
Kafka got back in his apartment and took a long shower. As Kafka walked out of his shower, his phone rang.
The call went on for more than an hour. The water from shower was dripping from Kafka’s skin as he spoke. It was not a nice conversation. Kafka did not like nice conversations and was not particularly good in turning them into good ones. By the end of the call all Kafka’s body was air dried except for is eyes and cheeks.
As Kafka hang up on the call he put his phone on the bed and turned around to face the window. it was the same beautiful world outside except, now it was all in black and white.
Kafka was neither shocked nor surprised with this view. His mind was slowly absorbing a sudden realization that going forward into his life, he would remember this day as the day his life changed.
Kafka was scared and sad because the change was not for good and he very well understood that this could be the point in his life, beyond which he would never make a happy memory ever again but at the same time he felt a strange calmness in his heart because it was done and he knew that he could possibly do nothing about it but move on and it could always get worse, a whole lot worse.