Schlagwort: Storybook

She walked across the rainy autumn street. She was cold and hungry, after all, she had wandered around the whole day to no avail. But there was this one place she could always return to. That’s where the kind old lady lived, who always left something delicious for her, who petted her, stroked her, and whispered soothingly pleasant sounds with her beautiful, calming voice. She was content, even though she hadn’t caught anything. Because there was this place, this little paradise… Continue reading „The Cat“ →

He looked out of the window, gazed over to the other window: light was on there, and a silhouette was outlined against the light. There she stood, the dream he clung to. His gaze wandered, almost voyeuristically, over her curves – just a shadow behind the drawn fabric blind, only a depiction of her true splendor. He didn’t dare tell her what he thought and felt, after all, she could have been his daughter, so young was she. So it happened that he contented himself with secret glances, clinging to his dreams instead of speaking to her, perhaps even getting closer to her. He was only in his mid-forties, in the prime of his life – but he’d been alone for six years, ever since his wife had left him, and loneliness had left its marks on his soul. Continue reading „Dance of the Shadows“ →

This morning I noticed a small fairground. The rides and stalls were still closed, waiting for the first visitors of the day. I like the hustle and bustle. The scents of popcorn and cotton candy, candied apples and roasted almonds – a unique blend that takes me back to the days when, with bright childlike eyes, I saw not a world of plastic, glass, and wire, but the miracle of living fairytales and fantasies. Continue reading „The Horror in the City“ →