The old rabbi moved on his bed.

The young man raced over.
«Yes, Rebbe?»

The old rabbi opened his eyes, showing the
cast of death that has almost consumed him.
«Ka…» he groaned.

The young man had been told the dying rabbi would never regain his senses. He leaned closer.
«What do you want?»

The old rabbi struggled for breath.

The young man gazed at pallid features and clouded eyes.
« What can I do?» He put his ear over the gaping mouth.

«Ka… Ka…»

One last ragged breath, a hollow whisper.
«Kafka died for your sins.»


This piece of Flash Fiction was one of the 250 finalists, from the 35,609 stories from 149 countries, entered in the International IV Edition of the Flash Fiction Competition Museum of Words.