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Life is too short for boring stories

The trees have long ago dropped their leaves. Autumnal cold winds whirl around them. Short breathing pauses only from being stirred up. You can not just fall down and lie down, not even as a leaf. One settles at my feet or is settled. A short stay until the next gust takes hold and blows, …

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The memory of you flows through me like a warm summer rain, sweeping me from all the gloom, everyday life, and normality. A summer rain in a desert landscape that lasts for months after rain, but as soon as the first drops hit, it blossoms in the most splendid colors, for a short while. The …

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