“That night—on the fourth day of October, 1874—at a quarter past one in the morning, the journeyman carpenter, John Kovacs, died.” And in the rest of the story, every person who knew John Kovacs in any way died, and, finally every last scrap of paper containing the name of John Kovacs, was tossed out—and thus every piece of evidence that John Kovacs ever existed is gone—except for this story.
Fifty Great European Short Stories. Ed. Edward and Elizabeth Huberman. New York: Bantam Books. 1971.
This is a beautiful story.
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