Jakub's Conceit

Jakub was a nervous man. He went through life believing himself the butt of every joke. Travelling down the street, he would from time to time pass men and women whispering to each other, and would think to himself, "What terrible things they must be saying about me!" Sometimes he would hear laughter from a window up above and would scowl, "Listen to their cruel snickering! What have I done to them?"

Nor did Jakub trust any of the few friends he had. If a group of them were to meet at their tavern, he would always arrive early so that he could watch them laugh and banter from outside the window. He would squint and try to read their lips, convinced of the vicious rumours about him they were spreading. And when he would finally go in, he was always bitterly resentful of the spiteful things that had been said in his absence.

One day, grown sick and weary of all the malicious attention the world gave him, Jakub went down to the gypsy quarter in search of a witch. A leathery-skinned gypsy woman, wearing a toothless grin and holding a small child to her left teat, approached him with the palm of her free hand outstretched. She had been expecting him, and would give him, for only two kronen, a potion that would let him see through the eyes of others. He did not ask her how she knew what he had wanted, for he feared her and what she was capable of. He paid and thanked her, and left with the potion, though he secretly believed she had sullied the drink with urine - on account of its predominantly yellow tinge - just to amuse herself at his expense.

He went home and swallowed it in a single gulp. It tasted rancid, but did nothing else at first. Feeling cheated, he scowled in memory of the old woman, and went to bed in a sour temper. He tossed and turned for several hours before eventually falling into a fitful, feverish sleep.

He was awoken by a gentle arm pressed against his chest, and, puzzled, opened his eyes to see Milena, the wife of his 'friend' Radek. Bewildered, he made to leap out of bed and conceal his dignity, but found himself powerless to control his body. Then strange, foreign thoughts began overpowering his own. Mmm, beautiful Milena. How sweet that she wakes me. Look at that little line beside her lip, adorable. Why does she frown so beautifully? And what day is it this day? Of course, Monday - I must get to the bank! I am such a fool, why did I leave all my papers with Kazimir? That idiot will surely lose something irreplaceble... Jakub wanted to yell at him to shut up, but discovered he was helpless to stop the endless flow of Radek's thoughts.

Then, with a jerk, he was staring through the eyes of old Lenka, the wicked hag one floor below him, whom he felt certain watched him with great hatred from the peephole in her door, whenever he passed by. Only, here he was, in her body, seeing the world as she saw it. She was busily swatting flies in her kitchen - there were dozens of them. And somehow he shared her emotions, her anger, her fury, her revulsion. Sweet lord in heaven, curse these wretched insects! I hate them, their disgusting eyes, their feet, their dirt. I hate it all. Ohhh, if only Josef were still alive. Ohh, my Josef. Where are you to help me when I am suffering so much from these horrible flies! And he was then overtaken with a deep sadness, unlike any he had ever felt.

Then, just as suddenly, he was looking out through the glass window from the eyes of another friend, Mirek, sitting next to his old colleague Karel. They were there, in the old tavern, drinking warm beer and waiting for him. "Why is Jakub always so late?" Karel asked. Mirek shrugged, then said, "This winter will be cold, do you not think?" Karel nodded, "Yes. I feel it in my bones already. God, there are days when I hate this land." "Sure," Mirek said, "but at least you have a wife who can keep you warm, and a family to bring you bread when you are old and rheumy. I, on the other hand, will die alone in a barren room, sick and cold and forgotten."

Then, with a jerk, Jakub found himself transported again. So it continued, from person to person, for what seemed an eternity. He thought and saw the sights and thoughts of others, but could never in any way intervene or make his presence felt. And out of all the people he had ever known, passed in the street, or had any sort of dealings with at all - and these numbered in the many thousands - only a handful ever called his name or memory out of the darkness.

In time he found himself back in his own body, immersed again in his own thoughts. He was discovered lying in his bed, just like that, when the neighbours some months later began to complain about a smell. The only notable impression he would ever make in his life was upon those who had the misfortune of removing his body. They, alone, would remember Jakub's face, that had contorted in the moments before his death into a terrified expression of loneliness.