In the sparse landscape of Central European modernist literature, Miklós Steinberg remains a ghost—an author whose name surfaces only in fragmented footnotes and whispered references. His 1928(?) piece, Fur Alma (the title hovering between the German für —"for"—and the Hungarian fur —"drill" or "bore"; "Alma" meaning both "soul" in Spanish and a woman's name), is precisely the kind of work that defies easy categorization. It is neither novella, nor prose poem, nor dramatic monologue. Instead, it is a .

The piece is notable for its use of motivic development, where small musical ideas are woven throughout the work to create a sense of continuity. Steinberg also employs a range of pianistic techniques, from delicate, finger-independent passages to more virtuosic, large-scale gestures.

Little shoe and suitcase. The story of Amos Steinberg continues.