A fifty – The accident

The glass of wine fell on the kitchen floor after spins then shattered into broken pieces of glass and ice … When death was making tea the new maid was sweeping the glass to hear the sound of music then picked up the ice to serve it to the guest.


He, who is not yet named.

I love to travel, it gives me better opportunities, I never know where or when I bump into my next one. I never sleep you see, half of my life I spend in planes and the other half in meeting new people. I’m always thinking … I never stop thinking and analysing body language and hidden meanings.

I’m addicted to caffeine as well, all I have is coffee. I speak sixteen languages fluently so far and I can look like anyone I want, all I have to do is push this button in my stomach really hard and insert a picture. I carry pictures in my wallet of people I meet around the world as a “Friendly Memory” I would say to them.

The best thing is that I look exactly like a human being and I am the first of my kind to feel. It was her mistake to trust me enough to give me free will. I developed urges to do weird things like collecting chewed gums and touching both of my knees with my elbows when someone says “Cake” I have also picked up habits like picking my nose and shaving my shaved chin and a hunger for slashing skin with sharp knives that eats me up and lights my heart on fire.

I’m better than a human, I’m stronger, faster, smarter and I have perfect eye sight. As a free thinker, I believe that Killing is an art, you have to do the dirty work and keep your self clean and to do the perfect crime you have to be an artist. After I satisfy my needs with passion and skill, I scan the scene to find any traces and I make sure that I leave one, an obvious one to those incapable policemen and I do so just to have a new look. Why not? I can do what I want so why don’t I have what I want?!

They, the human beings are the true criminals, they are! They’re all in disguise, you see … They crawl under those beautiful skins which are tempting to slay. I changed my mind, I am a human being and those are just insects. The problem is I made a mistake, it’s just one but it’s deadly … I loved a woman! For real I did but that was my end.

A disobedient memory and narcissism

Everyday was a different day but it always feels the same. The best thing is that he can trust him with deadly secrets because he’ll forget about them the next day.
Every night he sits down at the edge of Mark’s bed to tell him a story about a kidnaped boy who lives with them and doesn’t know that he’s a prisoner.

“Does he ever try to escape?” “He doesn’t know that he has to!” “Well, what if he finds out one day?” “If he ever finds out he will try to escape from the green door!” “But … We only have red doors …” “Shhh go to sleep I’ll tell you how tomorrow, remind me.”

“How come I never see him but you do?” “He lives in the mirrors and that is why we don’t have any mirrors in the house.” “Does he look like the monster under my bed or like the one in my closet?” “Thank you for reminding me. I’ll get them out now …”

The man dragged the two bodies on the floor out of the room and as he was leaving he heard “Look, the roof is dripping red rain! Can I use it to colour my drawings? I am out of red and only left with grey.” “Not again … No, you can’t … I have to clean up my mess but you should go to sleep.”

Mark finally woke up from his nightmares on his wet bed but this time a sudden change has been made in the routine. He decided to go to the basement to play hide and seek with his imaginary friend Kram. He noticed a shelf of souvenirs; wallets, watches and pens. There was an old photo hanging on the wall. It was Mark in a school uniform and a man placing his arm over his shoulder.

Mark took the photo in his hands and began to wonder who is this man and why is he in the photo with him? When was this? He took it to the man upstairs. The man was shocked for this was unexpected. He replied calmly with self confidence: “This man is your father, well he was.” “What have you done to him? Where is he now?” “If I were you I wouldn’t worry about it.” “Why is that?” “Because you will forget all about it tomorrow.” “Kram says that you kidnapped me and killed my father. I know he’s right now! You bad old man! You’re the devil!”

He ran away as fast as he could and opened the giant red door and it led to a long path with another red door in the end, each red door had another one behind it and each path became longer and longer with a further door to get to and the more doors he had opened the more hope he lost. This place was designed to make it impossible to escape and it’s not a house at all! Is there an end? “This path looks so long and he’s going to catch me! He’s getting closer and closer! I’m getting tired and I’m out of breath!”

Mark decided to look right and left for a way out and he saw a long window that has light bright green trees looking in from it and the calling light was coming through them and it looked so green. The man was so close to catch him but Mark made a surprising turn and threw himself out of the window.

He died in the arms of Mother Nature embraced by the soft grass. He died a beautiful death between the roses and his shiny sparkling drops of blood danced on his pure legs after crashing between the branches of the trees and through the shattered scattered glass of the truth.

He finally broke free and found salivation! He went out and saw the sun at last! The boy in the story has finally found the green entrance to life and escaped from his miserable death in the black hell. In death he found freedom and a grand white door to heaven.

A letter

My forbidden fear,

I thirst to have your soul into mine and let the soulless emerge satisfy my needs. The way you act makes me feel that you are the reaper and I am the victim and this change makes me feel alive enough to happily murder.

I am not worthy of you and I hate it, for I am the rotten apple that fell for Adam to sin on and you are my heaven. The devastating purity that lays in your heart makes me want to rip it out with my bare loving hands.

I do not deserve the kindness you have to give. You, on the other hand, deserve the fire you lit in my cold body. I shall bathe in your warm blood when the time is right and that is a promise for a lover to keep.

You think I hate you because I ignore you, or is it because of my dirty looks that I give you sometimes? I look at you like that because you are above me and that admiration is killing me. The truth makes me want to curl in a corner and weep my nightmares out but I will be your best nightmare instead.

-The immortal death, your loving angel.

A surprise in the cookie jar <3

My grandma’s famous strawberry cookies! Mmmmm … How good and delicious! I wonder what is in them … “What is your secret recipe grandma?” “hohoho you’ll have to die to know that dear.” If only she weren’t literal. I died to know that these red lines are not strawberry. Please don’t ask her!

La Maison Des Acteurs Cafe

Through all of these tables, I sat on that one. This chair is the oldest, so it is the wisest. Dear chair, I wonder how many stories have you carried? How much have you suffered and endured to get these wounds on that torn skin of yours? I love the wrinkles on your face, it complements your grey hair. Oh here comes the Asian waiter who greets me with a smile that never gets old. Oh, the way that six-fingered virtuoso showers my cake with chocolate exhilarates me.

What I love about cafes is that the people change everyday but it’s almost the same. That leaning tower of Pisa is all over his lady whom he loves deeply and as she sips the goodness of life he recites poetry to the beauty of her eyes. The old man secludes himself in the corner and has a glass of warm milk. The vulgar man who mistreats my friend is always here in different vessels. The boys who come in with rolling eyes examine the place as if it were a crime scene.

What if I opened my third eye? Would I see their real stories? Their secrets perhaps? Is there a murderer? A thief? If only it were true … I bit most of them are calculus teachers. What is that on the front page? A new bomb has exploded on the east side? Rich, please bring me today’s newspaper … Never mind I’ll get it myself. I pulled out the rolled one thirsty for fresh news and before I knew it a gun fell on the ground with a bang that scattered them like cockroaches. My favourite cafe is now closed for investigation.