Kafka at Rudolf Steiner's
by Rosalind Palermo Stevenson

“My dream repeats itself: just when it is coming to its conclusion, it returns to the beginning and starts again. I am on the grounds of the sanatorium. There is a thick growth of trees that covers the grounds. The smell of sulfur in the distance from the springs. A deep haze. The sky obscured by the thickness of the haze. I think, at first, they are vapors from the inhalation treatments. But then I realize they are fumes from burning. Ashes carried in the air, a smokestack rising in the shape of a funnel. It is a killing smoke, I shout in the dream. W suddenly appears beside me; she places her hand in mine.”