I chose this quote as the theme of my third novel in The Sculptor series. It’s from Franz Kafka’s Letters to Milena, which is a posthumously published collection of his love letters sent to Milena Jesenská, a married Czech journalist with whom he had a long distance love affair.
The relationship eventually dissolved, and Kafka died of tuberculosis a few short years later. It’s all very tragic, but that’s how I like my stories, whether they are from real-life or fiction. What about you?
How would you feel if you received a love letter like this?
Would you find it romantic or creepy?

