Fiction: Spring of Life – Chapter II

Procrastination: Being trapped in a dream world that prevents us from living our dreams on the real one. My life so far was a steady monochord rhythm, two chords repeating day and night. I always thinking how the song would continue. As I turned my face to look at her on that spring afternoon, I…

Fiction: Spring of life – Chapter I

I traded seagulls for ravens. On my backpack I had three days worth of clothes, and a toothbrush. On my heart I had a lifetime worth of dreams. I waited too long for this, and I wonder why… I don’t want to think that I was too long trapped in my fears, in my anxiety,…

Fiction: Oscars Day Part II

With each visit she aged more and more, with that time beauty had also left her. Her eyes were red and shiny when she sat opposite him. He knew it was because of him and that it was not the only time he made her cry. When he married her he loved her, at least…

Fiction: Oscars Day Part I

Prologue: I love Oscar Wilde. And for a while I read his whole biography, read all his books and almost devoured him as a person. That’s a little story about him, from my perspective. A monologue from the time in prison. 

Fiction: From the fairy tale of fear

She can’t breathe. Crawling to get some air. A rope is wrapped around her throat. She’s trying to break from it. With every breath she feels the narrowness. The pulse stops as the rope tightens. Millions of insects crawling and spreading all over her body. As he slowly strokes her shoulder, each of her limbs…

Fiction: Endstation

Sie mochte den Geruch vom Zug, besonders den, der alten Polstersitze. Es machte ihr auch nichts aus, dass das gemusterte Leder verraucht und nach schlechtem Essen und Alkohol roch. Mittlerweile bemerkte sie den Geruch nicht mehr. Sie mochte das Schaukeln und das Gefühl kurz vor dem Losfahren.

Fiction: The Black Widow

“She played for the sake of pleasure and suffering” She knew she had them by the hand. She knew how to hold the reins, how to play the right move. She always could. She had spun the spider’s web more and more, had always kept her prey close to her, until she was paralyzed, until…

Fiction: End Station

She liked the smell of the rain especially the old upholstered seats. She also didn’t mind that the patterned leather smelled of bad food and alcohol. Meanwhile she didn’t notice the smell anymore. She liked the shaking and the feeling just before leaving. When the train arrived, she felt as if she was being carried.

Fiction: Moonchild

Tonight I can’t see my mother. Her tears fall on the ground. Knee deep mud on the road. I wish I could tell her to stop. Her pain only makes the walk harder. Her dim light shows me the way in front of me. But not today. I walk blind through this unknown road, paved…

Fiction: Those lost at sea

The waters are now still. Last night’s storm has left hundreds of lost souls floating around for miles. Some are looking up into the sun, like they are desperately asking him to bring life back to their cold pale bodies. A hundred ships sail in between. They despise every one of the drowned, fearing the…