Hermann Hesse’s Glass Bead Game: The Fountain of Inspiration

by Steven Hermans
I wake up. Around me birds announce the sunrise. Through the plastic of my little tent I see the outline of the new day painted in thin light. After a few silent minutes I hear myself saying:
"Here I am, in the middle of a forest on the edge of some German back of beyond, surrounded by sour Krauts and insects."
My voice sounds unfamiliar to me, a deep, rusty bark that I never heard before.
"What the hell am I doing here? Is this my new life, Loneliness and Mosquito Bites?"
My questions remain unanswered by the forest; just the early-morning chatter of sparrows and blackbirds ...