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Life is too short for boring stories

When he woke up the next morning, he felt invigorated and strong, only an irrepressible hunger tormented him. He looked around the hut. It was small and cozy. He saw an oven that was used for heating and cooking, a table with a bench and two beds. Two beds? So his angel didn’t live alone …

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With his gaze fixed on the navigation device in his hand, he stumbled through the now pitch-dark forest. Luckily, he had thought of packing his headlamp, otherwise he would have been hopelessly lost here. No, he hadn’t intended to be in the forest that night. After all, it was June and the days were long. …

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You still couldn’t stand it outside of the rain, you still couldn’t stand the warmth, you didn’t want to freeze in front of the fire, this inner image, but perhaps telling the story would help you to be able to do it again. And the rain came. And you came, persevering and unhindered.

And you lost yourself in the rain, just as the rain had carried you to me. From wherever, from whatever time. I never asked. Were you present or a relic from times long past? Did you come from here or from a utopia, nowhere and everywhere? There is nothing to interpret. Just listen.

„Such a bastard, such a cursed!“. she scolded softly to herself, „Now he has actually just put me on the street, in the woods, in the middle of the night.“ Shaking her head, she stalked across the street in her high heels, while she could not stop condemning him. He had, admittedly, only done what …

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Targeting, efficiency and effectiveness are the categories that count in our world. All that is done must be done in the shortest possible time or with the least possible center-of-charge or with the highest possible output, or best with all together. These are great prerequisites. At least for those who think that people must be …

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