A place for a


A letter from his daughter

Paul got a letter from his daughter. He hesitated to read it. He put it away for a long time until he brought up the courage to open it. It said:


Hi daddy,

I had this voice in my head all my life. A voice that was telling me that I am a miserable piece of shit. That I don’t deserve love, don’t deserve pleasure, don’t deserve a fulfilling sex life.

Once the voice appeared in my dreams. It was the devil. A horrifying black cloud of terror. In that dream, I tried to fight him. Was it a him? Or was it an it? I tried to fight it, but my limbs were frozen. I could not move, as much as I tried. It ridiculed me and said You are mine. I whimpered and kept repeating to myself, No, no, no, oh please, god, no! Reality was disintegrating.

I woke up shaken and out of my mind. I pushed it all away, it could not be. I forced myself to forget about it.

Continue reading “A letter from his daughter


Short story: Altropia

May 9th, 2124 – The United Science Foundation of Altropia celebrates a critical breakthrough in space-time research.

June 15th, 2130 – The United Science Foundation of Altropia develops the first functioning prototype of the time machine.

January 1st, 2135 – The government of Altropia decides to travel back in time and bring a citizen from the 20th century back into the future, to grant him the great privilege of witnessing the society of Altropia – the first successful society consequently based on the altruistic principle.

February 2nd, 2135 – Jack Sober wakes up in a luxurious apartment in the Redwood District of Altropia’s capital, Veritruismo, after falling into a drunken delirium in the gutter of 1950’s New York City, U.S.A.. Jack thinks he must be the happiest bum on earth to have such a marvelous dream.

March 2nd, 2135 – Jack has been in Altropia for one month. Now follows the description of his day in the past tense.

Continue reading “Short story: Altropia


Good birds do not fly downwards

A bird was born. His father said: Good birds do not fly downwards. The boy was eager to soak up this wisdom.

The next day, the boy went to fly towards a mountain. He ascended and ascended and left behind meter after meter.

He arrived at the top and felt fully worthy of his father’s love.

Yet then it dawned upon him that he coult not possibly ever tell his father about it unless he were to fly back down to him again.

He flew back down again. His father was cold towards him. He felt ashamed.

The next day, he had a good idea. He flew back up to the mountain and decided not to fly back down. Instead, he let himself fall down, only to catch himself in the last few meters.

His father looked at him in shame and said: Did I raise a swindler and trickster?

The boy was devastated.

Hours over hours he spent wondering about the riddle’s solution.  He desperately wanted to make his father proud.

And then he made the only logical conclusion there was: He was not to return to his father after his flight!

Well, of course, it really was that simple. He was to forever explore the mysterious heights above the mountains, get lost in them and find enlightenment!

Thus, the next day, he for the last time threw a proud and understanding smirk at his father and jolly flew up the mountain and then kept flying up until he exited earth’s atmosphere. And just as he thought he was approaching exaltation, his lungs failed him and he died. His father would be proud of him.

The end.


Soldier Jonathan McCattle

I am in a boat with soldiers. I am one, too. We hear blasts. Blam, blam, blam. We pray to god. Blah, blah, blah. I am in the first row, the front gate opens. A big fat round of some calibre shoots off my left leg. Pang.

Something explodes. Boom. I fly through the air.

I land in the sand and look around. I can not move too well and look down. My lower body is gone. Hmm, interesting problem. I start to analyze the situation. How can we fix this?

Another soldier stands before me, pale like the sand. Whoa! He wonders what to do and tries to comfort me. Boo-hoo. I shout at him: Hey, idiot! A man does not whine! A man finds solutions! Now help me collect those parts of my body!

He is confused. What a moron. I start looking around myself. Ah, there is my dick part of the body. I shout at the guy: Hey man, there are my balls. Come fetch them for me, will ya?

The guy looks at my genitals two meters away and pukes right into my open intestines. Barf! I am annoyed. These youths today simply have no grit.

Continue reading “Soldier Jonathan McCattle