The game by H.-J. John, translated by Anthony Cataldo

Dedicated to uncountable gamblers who paticipate every week from the beginning in the lottery and give their money to help some win the jackpot and make them happy. The profit is for gamblers only.

First Chapter

In the 20th century there lived a human being in Germany who belonged to the most intelligent and at the same time most despised of beings in this of intelligent and despicable rich persons period in time. His story is worth to be narrated here. His name was Stefan Georg Wadenbeisser.

No, let it be. Names mean nothing. And if his name is not mentioned in the history books along side those of Einstein and Sartre, Hitler and Stalin, it is only because all his longing and all his endeavours were concentrated on a small part of human activity of which less is told about than is told of war in times of peace; the loss or the winning, the luck or the bad luck and how unequal and unjust in the lifes of man, is the luck in gambling.

In the years I am talking about gambling reigned everywhere, where there was a lottory office that is to say absolutely everywhere. The streets would have been covered with lottory tickets, if it were not for german tidyness and cleaness, the buildings would have been surrounded by successful suicide attempts, if there were not the promise of luck in the lottery each and every week again.

© 2010 Hans-Jürgen John