- You are useless, luck only serves to addict and commit sins.
- In my opinion, a pencil is one level above a pen, it is beautiful.
- Hmm! Fragile, brittle, and everything he does can be erased. Don't compare us!
- Nowadays only fools prefer the immutable, if I may.
- Good! If you talk like that I can mention that you never got off the shelf much. It is only here because the master likes a distraction while he writes. Jester!
- Yesterday I saw a new, erasable pen.
- Don't you dare compare me to such an ordinary instrument!
- Apparently, you don't like to be compared to many things.
- At least I have an important role in society.
- Please, you are old, disappearing. You are being replaced since your records are made slowly and the result is very fragile. Remember what happened to the last page you wrote! A drop of water, and it's all over!
- And yet I'm superior! My price can reach 200 Euros! I am coveted by many and a rare collector's item. And the page only got wet because you turned the glass!
- What a pity, you must feel alone without many of your kind. Or would the world be better this way?
- Certainly better than being mass-produced and having relatives of paper and clay.
- I'm free and proud. And I didn't turn the glass over, just touched it.
- Cheap and poorly used. You can't even see where it's going, it just causes disaster.
- Some compare me to fate.
- There is no such silly thing.
- Better than the words you write. What is this now, are those hate letters?
- Looks who is speaking! Why do I discuss something with someone like you in the first place? Better to concentrate on making the master's lyrics more beautiful.
- Childish. You don't make any difference in his lyrics.
- The child's toy spoke.
- One day your ink will run out.
- And you will ... go ...
- You will be thrown away without the slightest pity.
- How dare you!
- I see that you are almost empty, I will go roll again.
- Don't! Help me! If he doesn't stop writing like that I will ... I will ...
- Goodbye pen.
- Diiiiceee ...
The sun shines, the birds sing, the river flows, as always.As always, a small tiger walks through the fields.The grass, wet w
"And this time? Are you going to try to stop me?" Her voice was too calm for someone to belong to someone on the edge of a cliff. My voice does not come out. Or rather, I have no idea what to answer. My head seems to have stopped in the afternoon that I suggested us to travel here.If you ask me who is she, I would say she has always been my conscience voice.For someone brought up by extremely strict parents like her, the very thought of running away from home was blasphemy, a stupid idea. Clearly one of my ideas. That day She gave me that typical look of disbelief that we both knew was useless. She should have worked harder to stop me.I left at 3:15, everyone was all asleep. Or, so I thought until I found my father drunk on the couch watching TV. The sound was at a minimum, and he noticed me before I noticed him. He asked where I was going. I replied that she had had nightmares, and I was going to sleep at her room. He believed it, or at least I think that wa
Certain readers do not know how to appreciate a good work. Just like most young people judge the old fisherman.
It was on a hot spring day that he woke up.The snow melting and penetrating the ground thus reaching him.From a small, tight shell he desperately took advantage of every bit of liquid left at his reach.After drinking, he felt too strong and too big for the skin.Soon, he broke it in two and for the first time experienced the light, the wind, and the great mother earth.He wanted more, he wanted to grab the light to scorch the earth and protect himself from the wind.To embrace the earth, he penetrated its roots in it, deep down to the underground rivers, and under the great rocks.To catch every ray of light he encountered, he stretched out its branches and raised its leaves.Over time, he gained a shell to protect himself from the wind.One day, a lumberjack came to the pine forest and fell in love with its long leaves, slender branches, robust trunk, and long roots.The woodcutter started to visit the pine ev
If there's something I don't understand in big cities, this is the night.For most people, this scene looks very natural.
It was a dirty, dark alley.It had no doors, no windows, or led anywhere.
The mountain is called Despair, so why would a man in his right mind climb to the top, where the lost causes live?The mountains are usually cold and dark.
Once upon a time, a long time ago on the island of Kreg, a boy suddenly appeared inside an earl's castle without any guards noticing.The boy did not speak any known language and dressed in an extremely old-fashioned way, even for the time. With the thought that he was an envoy of the gods or a wizard, Count Walford of Kreg raised him as his own son and named him Nabee de Kreg.After a while Nabee was no different than any other boy, if not for the countless stories he had to tell, and that they became true! The most famous of them is also the only one that was not a prophecy, but only a tale about a distant past. It took place in fields of unimaginable beauty and mountains larger than any on earth. It was Theia's magical world. And that was a fairy tale.A fairy the size of a small child with skin as pale as snow, red hair as fire, and green eyes as forests. Dressed in the finest white dress, woven with cobwebs.Born from Theia's warm insides, she came as her messenger, prophet, and me
Do you ever start rumbling alone about yourself?I do, a lot.It usually goes something like this:I am not special, just an average person living a life like all others, with struggles and strikes, ups and downs.That is what you tell yourself every day.Be it to push your inflate ego down or to make you feel less like a freak.We always tend to push down the "I am special feeling" because we fear retaliation from our society.It is understandable, the Special title really drew a lot of attention, especially unwanted attention.But that is what makes it a so shiny title.Everyone wants to be special.Because highly gifted, successful people, and celebrities are specials.We sometimes forget that everyone is special because everyone is unique.We also forget that people with disabilities and criminals are also special.We see only what we want and ignore the rest, so is human nature.
Giant, is a word commonly used to describe someone very big. Today, it is a synonym for a person who has achieved something big.The so-called "geniuses", " truly hard workers" or simply the ones who got lucky.Everyone has their picture of those powerful persons.I, always imagined those rich kids who speak 4 languages, play many instruments, never had a red note, and so on.As any other kid, I aspired to become like that, I gave my best and achieved most of those.But when you come to a "first world country" the picture change completely.At once, to know 4 languages, to play an instrument, to be able to swim, ride a car... are just the minimum necessary!Yes, necessary as in obligatory.All those kids have parents who can send them to University and support them in whatever they want.All those kids have visited entire Europe at some point in their lives.And they don't have an idea of how lucky they are.
Can I write a Cute high school romance? Lets try...Not many years ago, in your typical high school environment, a girl named Alex fell in love with a girl called Zuri .Unfortunately, Alex had no gutts or whatsoever to confess it even for herself. The only thought of saying it would make her heart jump out of her chest.She did say many things to herself like:What is love? If I do not know what it is, I can't be in love.Why is my heart racing? Have I got anxiety problems now?If I like her? Well, yeah, she is pretty cool, but... That was it... I think...Anyway, as in any good story, your scared cat worked very hard to overcome her limits.Years passed by.First, she managed to not growl to every stranger who approached her first.Them she became their friends and learned that she was quite good at speaking for many hours straight.After some time she even got the courage to approach people first and sta
Story written with a randomly generated story as the base.Street Dog looked at the delicious sausage in his hands and felt hungry.He walked over to the hole in his cardboard box where the snow-wet street reflected his dangerous surroundings. He had always hated the dark Slum with its disturbed, dull dirty. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to violence and always let him hungry as if no amount of sausage would ever fill the hole in his belly. He was a mut, he was street dog.Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the dark and thin figure of Street Cat. Cat was a gracious demon with a dirty snout and skinny pawns.Dog gulped and hide his sausage in his secret place. Fear and hunger had thought him always to be cautious. Hiding a mere cold sausage, what have I become? He thinks to himself. He glanced at his reflection outside the cardboard box. He had once been an admirable, gold Retriever with a long snout. His on
It was a wonderful day! -Please... It was raining! But that was a very beautiful city. -They were ruins. Just a bunch of stones. Well, the food was delicious, you can't deny it. - I am still hungry. . . Stop interrupting me! -you started it. This was the best day of my life. - The worst I would say. Why? - Are you really asking? You know I hate travels. Then why did you came along? - I didn't "came" all the way. You dragged me until here. Really? I don't remember doing such a thing! - Yes, you did. You said, " If you really love me, you have to come!" And here am I. Do you love me so much? - Of course. Me too! -I already know, can we go home now? Well, for someone who is in love with me, you are really a party Popper! -Look who is saying! In your only holiday together, you want us to go to Greece? And where do
Once upon a time, a feeble boy lived in the streets of a huge city.To eat, he worked doing favors for slaves who would give him food in the place of money.To sleep in the cold nights, he would search for nearby farms who let the doors opens and snuggle up among the animals.He did not remember his mother or father faces, the only thing he thought about where food, shelter and water.One day saw a very scary woman beating a slave, just a normal day, he thought.But them, the old woman, she fainted still with the beating stick in her hand.The slave flee for his life.The boy stared the old woman, and the woman remained laid down in the dirty street.The boy did not know what "help" was, nobody never helped him because he was something poorer than a commoner, a street orphan.And the woman on the floor was no different, an old woman dying.Nobody would help her, it would be even better if a bad woman like her just stayed there forever.The boy kept staring.He remembered how he dislik
The first volume of Strange Short Stories is now available on as an ebook and physical book! Why should I buy it if I can read for free here? -The book has an extra chapter and illustrations that are not available on other platforms. The book contains corrected and improved versions of all the stories, leading to a whole new reading experience! (I'm sorry to leave you with the old version, but I preferred not to get rid of the originals!) Overall, reading the physical version of a book is always a more rewarding and comfortable experience. With that in mind I decided to publish the physical version of the book for those who feel that way too. Unfortunately, paper and ink are expensive. Anyway, hope you enjoy my work. By buying the physical book, you will be helping me finish the second volume faster!
Once upon a time, there lived a kind cople of elders.They had a beautiful love story. They were friends since childhood and stayed by each other side till they became old. Nothing could their them apart. Not even the fact that the woman could not get pregnant.They lived happy, in a small village, covered in snow half the year.There were happy children, enough food every winter and no war, just the calm peace.Even so, in the beautiful small hut where the elders lived, you could smell a faint of sadness. They were old, but had no one to look after them. Every day they wok up very early to go to the fields to work till night fall. It became harder and harder, and the couple feel more and more lonely.Every day they would go to the village temple to pray. The pray was always the same." Please, let us have a bit of sunshine, in the form of a beautiful small person, who we can call our child."The problem was, there w
Now let's speak about hidden treasures and pirates.For Bia, her parents were. . .Traders of a different type, but there was a time, when her thoughts on her family business changed completely.Let's tell a story to make the explanation easier.It all started with a desperate:-I swear! I don't have any money on me now! -Bia's parents cast a disgusted look at the moribund pirate.The pirate gives a poor look at the Bia that hides behind the legs of his parents, trying to earn pity. From her protected place, she had the courage to ask:-So why did you buy from us and say you'll pay later?-They took everything I had! They killed my men. Only I managed to escape. Little, you have no idea about how cruel the navy is.-Bia's father picks her up and tells the pirate:-It's the first day we've taken her together, couldn't you set a better example?- As he finishes the sentence, he draws the sword with his free hand and