Prose by Slawomir Mrozek
translated by Ewa Chrusciel


The Eight Day

God worked for six days and on the seventh day He rested. Because it is man and not God who tires more quickly, man decided that he deserved Saturday as a day of rest. This resolution did not meet with any explicit objection from the Highest Office.

- If I managed to get Saturday, maybe I will be lucky with Friday - I thought and I addressed the following application to God:

"Due to the exhaustion I feel after Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, I kindly request that I also be granted Friday as a day off work. - Homo Sapiens."

There was no answer, so I considered Friday granted as well.

Between Wednesday and the rest of week, however, ominous Thursday lurked. Nothing exhausts so much as the work on the last day of the working week. So I wrote, this time more daringly:

"»Man is a thinking reed«" (Blaise Pascal, 1623-1662). I think that I should not work on Thursday either."

Now I was done with my work by Wednesday afternoon. Yet, this Wednesday... the silence of God encouraged me.

"I demand the abolition of Wednesday as a working day. Prometheus."

As regards Tuesday, this time I revolted openly:

"»How proud the word rings - Man!«" (Maxim Gorki, 1868-1936). Tuesday is beneath my dignity. I refuse downright and I close on Monday.

There was no answer, so with Monday it was jolly easy. A telegram sufficed:

"Monday is out of the question too."

Now I had seven days off and I was proud of my revolt (L'homme revolt? Albert Camus, 1913-1960). But after a while I noticed that the week had only seven days and that I could not have more than seven days off a week. Such a restriction of my freedom was unbearable. So I sent a telegram to God:

"Create the eighth day at once."

He did not answer and that confirmed my conviction that Nietzsche was right after all (Friedrich Nietzsche, 1844-1900), and God did not exist. But in that case who is to blame for the fact that the week has only seven days and that I cannot have more than seven days off?

I took a club and skulked on the stairs. When my neighbour passes by I am going to whack him. Thwack!

After all somebody has to make up for my loss.


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