Fragments from the passionate exchange of letters between Franz Kafka and his beloved Felice. In 1912, Franz Kafka wrote about his encounter with Felice: "She sat at the table. I was not in the least curious about who she was, but immediately regarded her as something self-evident. A bony, empty face, that openly expressed its emptiness. A nose that looks broken, lank, unattractive hair. When I took my chair, I took a better look at her for the first time and when I sat down, I had already drawn my indisputable conclusion." What follows is a passionate exchange of letters that lasted for years. Hundreds of letters and only a few days together. "This can't go on like this, we hurt each other with these letters. Two letters a day is insanity. They do not create closeness, only a mixture of presence and absence that is unbearable."
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