The Wish To Be a Red Indian
If one were only an Indian, instantly alert, and on a racing horse, leaning against the wind, kept on quivering jerkily over the quivering ground, until one shed one’s spurs, for there needed no spurs, threw away the reins, for there needed no reins, and hardly saw that the land before one was smoothly shorn heath when horse’s neck and head would be already gone.
“The Wish To Be a Red Indian” by Franz Kafka.
Biblioklept 
Is this a book by Kafka ?
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It’s from Betrachtung (Meditation) — a collection of shorts.
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Reblogged this on ΝΕΑ ΧΩΡΙΣ ΦΙΛΤΡΟ ΦΕΛΛΟΥ.
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Have you read anything by Robert Walser? Look into his short stories, if you haven’t already.
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Thanks so much for the recommendation, Udder. I picked up MASQUERADE & OTHER STORIES after stumbling into a New Orleans bookstore after a three-Bloody-Mary-breakfast and seeing it on display, as if by magic, after reading your comment a few days prior. Read a hefty chunk last week and it’s great stuff.
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I have a facsimile copy of Walser’s tiny book with his little stories in his nearly microscopic handwriting.
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