Foolish Writing Filip Topol, Pavel Hájek (ed.)

She pressed my left hand fingernails with her teeth. She drove under them and rubbed them gently. Forefinger, middle finger and ring finger. In a moment, a ring finger and forefinger slipped from her mouth. Only the middle finger remained. She bit the nail in regular intervals and I could feel the small tender walls of her teeth. It was devilish as she ran the tip of her tongue over the belly of that finger. It was bitten and beaten from when I played the piano. It was also rough and her tongue, the tip of her flowery tongue, softened, rejuvenated and carried me somewhere high in the sky. She was so soft, that I believed tiny glowing sparks flowed in her mouth like the stars of that sad relationship. It was unbearable as there was something both animalistic and angelic, as if she had covered my fingernail with wings, wings with teeth, white, small and blossomed with beauty, sadness and tenderness.It was completely dark. My eyes flashed. I held her right around her waist, but I didn't stroke her, I only held her. My hand was starting to become numb. We were naked and our bodies were shaking.

I smelled the odour or aroma of alcohol and cigarettes combined with some perfume. We drank wine before, there was silence, darkness and our breathing was very calm, quiet and somehow - I don't know - expecting? She was soft, smooth, I could only sense her breasts in the darkness and in the silence."

Foolish Writing concludes the two-volume edition of the Filip Topol Archive. The first book was compiled from Topol's texts about his closest "friend" Kilián Nedory.