“One day, in an old tavern, Albert Camus and Franz Kafka were sitting, sipping their whiskies. Camus, narrating Samuel Beckett’s tendency to disappear, remarked, ‘This man, he always disappears. Like the symbol of cowardice,’ he said.

Kafka silently smiled and added, ‘But his return will be magnificent. He will write the story of a man born from his ashes. Again and again.’

Dostoyevsky, sitting in a corner, calmly listened to Camus’s words. Then, he added, ‘Try again, fail again, fail better,’ echoing Samuel Beckett’s phrase.

Camus turned to Kafka and asked, ‘Why does he always disappear?’ Kafka replied, ‘Perhaps disappearing is an effort to unravel the complexities within oneself. Each disappearance is the beginning of a new journey.’

Dostoyevsky raised his glass and said, ‘Cowardice is, in fact, the courage itself. When a man disappears, he engages in an internal war. And every failure is a step towards a better ending.’

Kafka, lost in thought, then added, ‘What makes the return magnificent is the resilience to stand stronger after every failure and resist to write.’

The atmosphere in the tavern was filled with both despair and chaos on one side, and hope and resistance on the other. Dostoyevsky, Camus, and Kafka’s thoughts intertwined, and Samuel Beckett’s phrase added weight to every word.

And that night, Dostoyevsky penned a story of a hero’s constant journey of disappearing and being reborn. The words reflected a search, falls, and rises depicting the struggle of a person. The people in the tavern, under the power of these words, immersed themselves in a story where hope and failure intertwined.”