“If I was a painter, and it’s not out of the question that I’ll become one someday, since after all no one knows what their destiny may be, I would be most fervently an autumn painter. I’m only afraid that my colors wouldn’t be up to it. Maybe I still don’t understand it enough. And anyway, why should I worry at all about something that hasn’t even happened yet? Only the present moment should and must concern me deeply.”

—Robert Walser, from “The Essays of Fritz Kocher.” #Fiction in issue 205, Summer 2013