Chapter 6
PUNCTURED SOUL
The question as to why I, amongst all the noteworthy architects of Brno, should live in a humble flat in an ordinary, dime-a-dozen tenement — that question, I say, is such an obvious one that no one’s ever really asked it. Obviously, I don’t include here my Mephisto, Lieutenant Láska, but let’s set that aside for now. Those who assumed to know me probably arrived at the conclusion that, in reality, I was already building a villa for myself in some secret corner, and that soon I was going to surprise everyone. I confess that there have been times when I was not far from similar thoughts, that is, that there would come a day on which, quite simply, I’d sit down at the drawing board one fine morning, and before the sun had sunk in the west, I’d have that villa of mi
