Checking in to a mental institution shouldn’t be that difficult, right?
“Excuse me? Hello!” Daniel pressed the button again. Finally he saw some movement through the glass door.
The door opened and a man wearing a white coat popped his head through the opening, scouting the surrounding. His hair was undone and his glasses were thick, like the ones from the 70s. Daniel didn’t really think about it, though. Anyone working at an asylum must be at least a bit crazy themselves, right? Although that was probably not politically correct. It was a mental hospital, for the mentally disturbed, or something like that. All those bullshit social rules, and the government still wondered why people were going mad? Continue reading “Checking In – Short Story”
When she started out, many months before, she had never thought she’d be able to pull it off. But she was no longer afraid.
There had been times she had almost given up. All the lying, the sneaking around. But today she once more managed to continue to smile to whoever she met. Walking in and out. Slowly, but not too slow. Making sure not to catch any attention
Today was her last day. Her final day. It all came down to these last three, The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, and Flatland by Edwin Abbott. When she started out, many months before, she had never thought she’d be able to pull it off. But she was no longer afraid. As the months passed, as her visits to the library remained unnoticed, her boldness had grown beyond proportions she had ever dreamt of. At first she had taken just one book at the time. Maybe she had gotten sloppy as the month passed and nobody ever stopped her. Her own house was filled to the brim with books by now, carefully sorted and catalogued over the months. Her collection was pretty much complete. Except for these these three slim, but weighty classics. Continue reading “One Book at the Time – Short Story”
Sometimes it’s good to read the between the lines.
Terms of the Real Unicorn Deal (Unicorn Inc.)
- The unicorn will be delivered at agreed upon time and place. (Changes after signing of the contract can no longer be accepted, due to the high interstellar administrative costs.)
- Unicorns may differ. Unicorn Inc. is not responsible for biological, emotional, aesthetic or social differences. (What you get is what you get, basically.)
- Unicorn remains property of itself, irrespective of local legal rules regarding animals. (Please be aware unicorns dislike being called animals.)
- This deal instantly becomes void when these terms are broken. (All involvement of Unicorn Inc. will be categorically denied, both in Kantian and non-Kantian sense.)
- Anything you say or do, in any universe and in both future and the past, can and will be used against you. (This includes that time you hit your little brother.)
- Unicorn Inc. does not take any responsibility for anything the unicorn does or doesn’t do. (There is no way you can reach us to voice complaints. Any way you will try to contact us, is useless.)
- Unicorns will be returned to Unicorn Inc in the following circumstances:
- When unicorn so desires (free will remains with unicorn, unicorns are stubborn and will see through any attempt to make them go back.)
- When the time of the contract is fully served (unless the unicorn wishes to remain, free of charge.)
- When terms of this agreement are broken (to be decided by Unicorn Inc.)
- This deal goes into effect the moment funds are wired to Unicorn Inc. at which time all terms of this agreement are agreed upon.
Continue reading “The Agency of Unicorns (please read before buying) – Short Story”
What better way to spend your holidays than to do what you love? Being, thinking, reading, being-together.
Holidays, what are those? Ah, that time of the year that I travel to the Nordic Summer University, to attend one of the interdisciplinary circles and enjoy the company of interesting, passionate and intelligent people.
Continue reading “Nordic Summer University 2018: Philosophy during the Holidays”
All he wanted was to be normal. But it was a good thing he was trying to get help, right?
“I would like to check myself in.” Ben held on to the counter. Sweat was forming on his forehead. He knew this was the right thing to do, but that didn’t make it any easier.
The nurse looked him over, and handed him a piece of paper and a pen. “Please take a seat and fill out the form. We’ll be with you in a moment.” Continue reading “You Do Know You Sound A Bit Mad, Don’t You? – Short Story”
Writers don’t judge, they describe, Anne Enright says. “I am interested in the way that things that are latent become known.”
For some time I’ve been involved in something called ‘Write Club’, an initiative of some fellow short-story writers who felt it’s good to push yourself to write and edit more in order to bring yourself to a higher level as a writer, while doing this as part of a group trying to do the same thing. Continue reading “Anne Enright Writing Prompt”
To be or not be salad. ~ a seed
Organically growing things is perhaps one of the most satisfying things. It reminds me that forcing decisions top-down will never work. That no matter your plans, growth is only possible when connections are created between things, between people, that are based on mutual recognition. That foster truth and honesty. That allow for openness and diversity. Continue reading “Growing Things Takes Time”
A short fiction story by Nicole des Bouvrie. Can something be good, when you do it for no reason?
It wasn’t easy. Life was never really going to make things easy, was it?
Lara walked among the flowers and felt sad. So many beautiful flowers. So many colours. And every time she thought she had found the most beautiful one, she looked up and found another one that had just that little extra something. How was she ever going to choose?
Continue reading “The Girl and the Leprechaun – Short Story”
It wasn’t me, I swear
It just fell from the sky
Right next to me
Falling through layers of air
A loud thumb
Sealed its fate
Or perhaps it was
After sixteen years
Of sleep it screamed
In agony over life
Now it lies here
Body intact, soul astray
Food for thought
I recently found out that cicadas spend 16 years under ground, asleep or hatching or whatever they call growing down there. I only knew them as the screamingly loud animals keeping me from my sleep. But now I understand. The shock of light and the fighting for survival would be enough reason to scream of agony.
Rest in peace, dear cicada.
And thank you for not dropping dead right on my head.
Read more short stories by @nobyeni at her website.
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“Are you there?” Bob held his head very still, making sure to not make any sound. Even the slightest rush of blood could make him miss their answer.
Bob looked out of the window. Across the street the neighbour woman was watering the plants at her balcony. Again. Not that he was complaining. She was a treat to look at. Long blond hair. Great rack. And lately she had been wearing these tight skirts that left him wondering about more than just how much water those plants actually needed. But still. He’d prefer to have neighbours not looking into his house at all times of the day.
Bob jumped out of his chair. Freaking heavenly father. He was right. “Marcy! It’s happening again!”
Continue reading “The Probe – Short Story”