Back to Prague

I came back to prague looking for my brother michael. Between the missed phone calls and the overlapping letters, we missed each-other. And yet i was not stirred nor worried and trusted completely in the telepathic synchronically that was always there between us. I had a sixth sense about it, that I would find him in that endless meandering city that brings the night to you,more then you would want or need. But as to my brother I knew that night or day did not matter, and so after settling in for the night in my rather rugged accommodation; i decided to venture into the starry Prague night.

Restlessness

Sometime in the far future I would stand next to my best friend and he would ask me what I saw that day in the waveless water and cool breeze of A late summer morning. he would ask all the write questions, and he would want to know more and more about the events of that morning. Of course he wanted to know, and his interest seemed to demand an answer that did not exists. He happened to be the brother of that child I found floating midway between the deep end and the surface of that aged grand pool, which had become the village symbol of A hard and tenacious spirit still burning from the ashes of germany. I had nothing to say,other then that he was floating like an angel and his hair waved as though he was still alive. But somewhere in-between the questions and my silent response, there was also the deep sadness of an event that has no answer and almost like the end of a mystery; I was not satisfied with that end, though at times drawn into the enigma of that event and still trying to find solace among those who wandered more then I, and wanted to know more then ever what A body submerged in water looks like after A long and silent night. But that was too late. I got tired with what I could not answer and prepared myself for A new journey to come. I was A young man and death again peeked itself before me,reminding me that even my bubble can burst at any moment.

The swiming pool

I awoke to A scream in the early morning as a stubborn mist lingered too long for our summer senses. the scream came from the direction of our community swimming pool. There was A rustle in the trees, A slight late summer breeze coming from the north, which usually meant the coming of an early fall. I normally would not respond to screams in those parts, as there always were groups of children making their way to the swimming pool with their playfulness and eager voices,eager to place the first jump in the relief of those hot summers days. The scream was loud with A high shrill, and it was still too early for the children, and so I went to find out what it was all about. I got to the entrance of the swimming pool, and saw my old friend Ruth, who was also the lifeguard and pool keeper running towards me with her arms open wide, as to embrace me. She was shaking with fear. In the few mumbled words, she managed to convey that there was A body inside the pool. My friend Jonathan happened to arrive that moment, and we both walked into the pool grounds to see what the screaming was all about. I remember the stillness of the water that morning, and even with the slight breeze that was there, I could still remember how still the water had been. The pool was A large olympic size 50 meters, A kind of trophy price for all the hard work invested in what was once A swamp land and now A thriving community with its own factory and farm lands. I looked in the shallow side as the pool curved going deeper . My friend Jonathan was the first to spot him at the deep end. He was floating midway between the surface and the bottom. He faced us. his blond flowing hair moved with a slight flutter. It was too deep to see his eyes, and for A moment I did not recognize him.

ल

Jonathen

My memory of him is fresh; Almost too fresh to recall much of anything. The dead leave us hanging sometimes. They leave us with A certain numbness which is still alive and pulsating and perhaps misleading. Its never fair is it; its never expected. I had experienced death far too young to have even known life. The burning wave of A women who set herself on fire next door, out of A desperate attempt to atone the disability of her afflicted daughter. The discovery one morning of A young boy submerged under the calm and still waters of the outdoor public swimming pool. The death of my young stepbrother who ventured into the wilds of Alaska,only to succumb to A life long struggle with Asthma. Death will always surprise you; even when your looking. even when you know and wonder when the mystery will end. And yet, I was pulled my them all, even till their last moment. I was pulled and dragged and yes, even the tears were hard to to find. they seemed more easily spent on the living, and even those who were the walking dead, even they, in those last moments, even then, and perhaps more so; the tears flowed more readily, and I had to remind myself that they were still alive. They were still alive, and so was I, and so I will remain, God willing in the deep and penetrating glow that is this life.

The Death of A Friend.

When I checked into my small Hotel just on the outskirts of the old town of Prague; I felt A wave of fatigue, such that it startled me. I had forgotten that my journey had gone for more then two days with only sporadic sleep, and an even more sporadic diet made up mostly of red wine and bread. I did manage to scrape A quick run for the cheese in Vienna during A brief lay over, and the rest of the journey was left to the aggressive peddlers who offered little for the money. I was about to sign off for the night, when the phone rang; it was my lost twin Michael, who I had been looking for for most of the day. He sounded somewhat gloomy and sunk, that I could only have anticipated something terribly wrong to have happened. He informed me that my old friend Jonathan, had died as result of A lingering Cancer which he carried for more then A year, and that He had already been buried in our small village cemetery just two days ago. The news was not unexpected. I did feel numb and was almost surprised that I did not cry: I was too tired to feel, even memory felt like A fog. I told my twin that I love him, and will catch up with him in the morning, so that he can reveal to me the mytery of his disappearance, and how he found me.

Micheal

I came to prague to meet my twin brother Michael, who had decided to prolong his stay there. We agreed to meet somewhere in the center,and because of a miscommunication from the long distance telephone static ,no name of a square, nor a street, nor the name of his hotel was ever disclosed. I decided to go by intuition alone, and perhaps a little of the twin synchronicity that up till that moment, I had never put to use. I decided to walk. I left the bulk of my belongings at the station in one of the archaic storage containers, that took me half the day to figure out how to use , and headed out towards the center of town. I am actually good with maps, but they are quite useless in Prague when it comes to the meandering streets, and better to use your instinct and good sense then to get even more lost with an overused map. I headed east on one of the broader boulevards that took me past small boutiques and cornered little cafes and book stores. The sidewalks are thin in Prague and much of the time is spent dodging the passerbys,especialy during a busy hour. I continued in a gradual pace and slowly found myself deep inside a maze of intertwining,convoluted passages that seemed to lead nowhere.