She walks up the stairs. Her hair high up in a bun and her face half-covered by an oversized scarf. A burgundy coat hides her petite figure. The backpack she carries almost makes her look like a schoolgirl. But she is 27 years old.more „You Should See Me In A Crown“
Hi love. Hi, it’s me again.
We haven’t talked in months. I miss you.
Last time, you told me you would get back to me when time allows.
That’s been three months now, there wasn’t time yet.more „Waiting for You“
Remember how you built forts out of blankets and chairs when you were little and then listened to fairy tales inside them? It gave you the greatest feeling of safety.
Remember the time you fell off your bike when you were little? You scratched your knees and it was the worst pain you ever experienced.
Or the time you won a prize with your dance team at the national championship even though you messed up the choreography? You were so honored and ashamed at the same time.more „What Makes You YOU – A Short Story“
My eyes are different. One works fine but the other is special.
The normal one sees things as they are. Beautiful and colorful. But the special one sees dark things. Sinister and dull.
It is difficult to explain what I see to others. They don’t understand. It is easy, though.more „My Special Eye – A Short Story“
I flutter my eyelashes open. The sun is blinding me. Here I am, again. How many times have I woken up like this now? Naked, in a field of high grass, with a tree right next to me and the smell of flowers in my nose. A new start, again. I know that I have done it differently every time, but I keep waking up here.
Last time I walked the path next to the field and it led me to a small town. My feet are hurting, still. All those little rocks left marks on them. I tried dodging them, but there were just too many. The town only consisted of a few houses and I didn’t see anyone outside. The last thing I remember, is me pulling on the door handle of the local café. But my memory is blank. I only remember waking up here again. What have I learned so far? I know that the more marks I see on my feet, the closer I got to meeting someone the previous time. Something is going on with those rocks.more „The Meaning of Existing – A Short Story“