Nineteen

It is per rule that prison inmates have to get up early. It's one of the perversities of prison, and most do it by force and grumbling. There was one women's prison, though, where every Thursday started with pleasant anticipation, and every inmate got up a little bit earlier than necessary. This was because the previous night an unknown donor threw a chocolate bar (or similar) each through their cells' outer windows.
The donor's name was Pete, and he was but a boy on the verges of manhood. He thought it was such fun to throw gifts through people's windows, but at some point, simple fun is not enough any more.

Sixteen

This is my world.
It is not unlike yours with regards to where land ends and where the sea begins. Mountain ranges might resemble those you know seen from afar. There are differences, though. The sizes and shapes of things might be slightly off, and colours may vary as well. There is, for example, Italy with a smaller shoe size and higher heel, or so I'm told. Also, North and South America are only almost, but not quite, connected.
You have to understand that this is not your world; this is the dream world - a place where day dreams and wishes come alive. It is constantly being created by dreamers from all over your world. They shape their lands not unlike their home, but different still. Humans never see the world as it is, you see, so no matter how close they want to stay to reality, it is still their personal reality that is being used.

Fifteen

"Being married to a person you have never met before was common practice a long time ago. We think it's time to revive this old tradition, not for the sake of family alliances and money, but for the sake of the human race. We have to take care of evolution with the help of genetic compatibility algorithms. We have to make sure women get pregnant before they are too old. We are here to help you find the right partner, quickly.
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the day of Revelation."

Fourteen

Out of the corner of my mind I am watching myself destroy my life; like a pervert, only with more scientific interest than actual joy. I think it has always been like that, me watching myself walk through life. That's what really sets me apart, the whole self-monitoring. I rarely pay attention to others. I don't learn much about people that way, only about me.
Maybe it's lucky that you found me now, and talk to me and not the spokesperson that controls my body. I guess sometimes you have to talk to the one in the backseat and not the driver.
Just to make this clear: I am standing on the sidelines, always. You cannot blame me for what happened. I will not feel guilty. Consider the following as nothing more than a testimony from a witness who was incapable of interfering.

Thirteen

"Oh, dammit, this is a disaster," curses Elisabet as she hurries down the narrow path.
The sky above her is a swirl of dark grey and dirty yellow, and a strong wind is tearing at her hair and clothes, almost stealing the breath away from her lips. Her shoes are not meant for walking in the rain, or for the pebbly terrain she is trying to cover fast right now, like no shoes available to her are nowadays. People are not meant to tread outside defined areas, and most of them don't. Except for Elisabet.

Twelve

"OK. Three. Two. One."
Applause washed over the two women seated in comfortable arm chairs on a brightly lit stage.
"Action!"
The applause ebbed away.
"Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. Greet with me our next guest, Nadiya Hunter!" said the woman on the left, all radiating smiles.

Ten

Elisabet's hands were being kept warm by her parents, who were on either side of her. The rest of her body was tightly wrapped in warm clothes, with the exception of her face, which was terribly cold.
"Mom, how long do we still have to walk?"
"Not very far, honey," replied Lucy in the inaccurate but reassuring way of parents. In fact, Lucy didn't have a clue, and from the way Dan looked at her over their daughter's head, neither had he.
They had promised Elisabet something special for her seventh birthday, a trip to the new Fantasyland, but now that they were at the given address this didn't look at all like a good idea. The pedestrian’s exit from the parking lot had led to this long, straight road flanked by brown, frozen fields. The parking lot itself had been quite well filled - Elisabet had been very angry that they were so late to arrive - but nobody was visible on the road, nor was an end, like the entrance to the amusement park, in sight.

Nine

"And you will behave, won't you? Do nothing I wouldn't do?"
"Of course, Susan. I am your best friend, you know."
Susan sighed and got up. Instantly, the world went black before her eyes and she had to grip the back of her chair for support. Erica and John, Susan's love interest, watched her with concern as she tried to steady herself.
"Are you sure that you'll be all right?" he asked. "We could bring you home."
Susan considered this for a second, but then shook her head. "The night is too young to be wasted. And, anyway, it's just a cold!"
The other two shrugged, not willing to disagree, and watched her sway towards the exit.
"Well then," grinned John without humour, "time to get drunk!"

Seven

Note: this is a sequel to Five.

After flying for hours without a break, his wings had grown so heavy it felt like he had to beat the air he was supposed to glide through into submission, and it got harder with every flap. Some part of him, the one that was still thinking, had hoped the exercise would free his numb mind, but it didn’t. To the contrary, he was now feeling dizzy of exhaustion as well.
At least he had reached the Himalaya. Instead of heading towards his cave, though, the dragon decided to go on - and up. His lungs seared as he climbed through the clouds, which clung to his body as though they’d never want to let go. Some part of him, the one that felt the agony, wanted to see heaven.
The clouds around him got denser and denser, until he lost all sense of direction. The mountain peak, white with snow, was only visible up close. The last thing he saw was the glitter of frozen snow.

Six

Picture a hill, loosely vegetated with trees. Blades of grass reflect milky moonlight, but there is a patch of denser darkness as well, roughly a square.
On the patch of darkness, perceive movement and noise; the rustling of paper and cloth, the tinkle of glass, a soft giggling. There are voices, too, breaking the silence of the night.
She says: “Oh, Dan, this was such a fantastic idea! A moonlight picnic, how sweet.”
He says: “I’m glad you like it. Champagne?”
She says: “Yes, please,” followed by more giggling and another tink. Then there is silence.

Three

Dan was a nice guy. Everybody at the Café knew that, employees and regular guests. He had only two problems: he was in his mid-thirties and single; and he was a perfect best friend, not a perfect match. If asked why she would never even consider dating him, no woman could give a satisfactory answer (unless she was already spoken for).
Trying to find a date for Dan was a kind of sport at the Café, which is why many eyes followed the blonde who stomped towards the last free table watching out over the street.


This stupid idiot! Who does he think he is, not showing up for our date? He could at least have called! I hope he dares calling me later without an apology, then I’ll let him know what I think of him!

“Welcome, what can I bring you?”
“Oh, hi, um, one cappuccino please?”