The Wrong Choice

When Werner saw Georg’s newest sculpture and the praise it was lauded by their teacher, he became depressed. He imagined within it his own artistic deficiencies, his lack of imagination and formal technique. Rather than take this recognition as a call to action, Werner sank deeper and deeper into despair. After almost three years in art school and hundreds of private lessons, he worried that he had made the wrong choice with his life. So after days of sulking, Werner called a meeting at Bar Wolke with Christophe, Charles, and Olga to discuss his future. They drank four rounds of beer, and then standing up, Werner placed his right hand on the table to steady himself, and declared that he was no longer a sculptor. “From today on, you will know me as the playwright who transformed the German theatre!” and then fell over, cutting his hand on a protruding nail.