Category Archives: fairytails

The Sound of Melting Snow

The Sound of Melting Snow

Drip drop drip drop

Wakes her up at night

Drip drop drip drop

No dripping in her sight

Drip drop drip drop

In the kitchen apples rot

Drip drop drip drop

Faucets leaking? No, they’re not.

Drip drop drip drop

Hips feel like breaking

Drip drop drip drop

Familiar pictures, her heart is aching

Drip drop drip drop

Silence in the shower but

Drip drop drip drop

The door behind her is closing shut

Drip drop drip drop

Her face is staring back at her

Drip drop drip drop

The mirror reveals her in a blur

Drip drop drip drop

Her time is swiftly spilling out

Drip drop drip drop

A searing pain begins to sprout

Drip drop drip drop

Faces, memories, all escaping

Drip drop drip drop

Ever after – what’s remaining?


The girl with the pack of Marlboro

It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, with bare hands and trashed Converse, roamed through streets. It is true she had on a pair of gloves when she fell asleep last night, but it was not of much use. They were very large, so large, indeed, because she stole them from the mens section in a sportswear store, and the poor little creature had lost one of them in running across the street to avoid a big white truck that were driving along at a terrible rate. She had tried to take comfort in a stairway to the subway, but two security guards who noticed her as they were patrolling the area told her to piss off. So the little girl went on with her little naked hand, which was quite red and blue with the cold.

In her jeans pocket she carried half a pack of cigarettes, she always smoked Marlboro. They were expensive but gave her an odd kind of comfort. No one had thrown her even a penny although she had been begging since early in the morning. Shivering with abstinence, she crept along; poor little child, she looked the picture of addiction. The snowflakes fell on her long, unwashed hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.

Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell from the marketplaces, for it was New-year’s eve – yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between a garage and a electric substation, one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her wet little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and she dared not go to a hostel for homeless, they would ask a bunch of questions and spot the needle marks on her arms and between her fingers. They would certainly call the police. And the men would come and get her and send her back to rehab once again. No, she would prefer to freeze to death rather than to go back to that gruesome place of twelve-step programs. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a smoke might do some good, with trembling fingers she drew one from the pack and light it with a BIC-lighter, just to make her feel a little better.

It gave a warm, comforting feeling, like mind moment of heaven, as she exhaled all the smoke from her lungs. It was really a pleasure. It seemed to the little girl that her hand was close to a fireplace, with burning flames and burning fumes. How the fire glows! Soon the cigarette almost had burn down to the filter. The last drag seemed so beautifully warm and she felt the blood circling around inside her body. And then, lo! The flame of the cigarette went out, and close to her left foot, she put the cigarette butt in a pile of dirty snow on the cold, hard concrete.

Quickly she lit another cigarette. After a couple of drags, she saw the wall became transparent as a veil and blurry, she saw a fully decorated room, but without any people in it. The table was covered with a splendid dinner service, and a big pig head in the middle, with an apple in it’s mouth. And what was still more wonderful, the head jumped down from the dish and tumbled across the floor, towards the little girl. The pig head spit out his apple and landed in her other empty hand. Then the cigarette went out, and there remained nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.

She lit another one of her cigarettes, and she found herself sitting under a tall beautiful Christmas-tree, that reached above the clouds. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door at the rich shopping centre. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures of angels, Jesus and virgin Mary, like those she had seen in the show-windows, looked down at her from the three. The little virgin Mary stretched out her hand towards them, and the cigarette went out.

The Christmas-tree shoot up in the sky, faster and faster, like a rocket, and then only could be seeing as a little bright dot up in space. Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. The fire went out, instead there were a line of people dancing and cheering “A freak show!” she thought. Then they saw the little girl, looking at her mad. The sky became silent. The freak show got blurry and erased out in empty space.

She again lit a cigarette with her cheap plastic lighter, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance.

“Grandmother,” cried the little one, “O take me with you; I know you will go away when the  cigarette burns out; you will vanish like the warmth from the oven, the roast goose, and the large, glorious plastic tree with colorful lights.”

And she made haste to smoke all her last cigarettes, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And her cigarettes glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day, and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.

In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall; she had been frozen to death on the last evening of the year; and the New-year’s sun rose and shone upon a little corpse! The child still sat, in the stiffness of death, holding the empty pack of Marlboro in her hand, and her bright pink plastic lighter next to her on the cold ground.

“She tried to warm herself,” said some.

No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New-year’s day.

/ Allmant_Distra

/ Oscillate Wildly

/ Mlbegoden


The Boy Who Cried Wolf on Wall Street

Once upon a time there was a man called Gollum who worked in the stock-exchange market. His task was to manage and regulate the company’s finances. The company was investing in various companies. One day, a man came to the company and said: “Do you want to invest in the best company in the world? I am the famous Mr. Gandalf and I rule the country of Japan, invest in me and you shall be rich beyond your dreams”. The company was very humbled at the request and decided to invest immediately. Gollum watched the scene, and being the prankster that he was, he suddenly cried “Wolf!”. The man explained that Mr. Gandalf was an infamous Wolf on Wall Street and could not be trusted. To his naughty delight, his colleagues listened, and decided not to invest in the promising company. Within the next year, Mr. Gandalf’s value went up a hundred percent. The man’s company were dissappointed, and told the man he better pick up his game.

A year had passed, and one day another man came to the company and said: Do you want to invest in the best company in the world? I am the famous Mr. Radagast and I rule the country of Norway, invest in me and you shall be rich beyond your dreams”. The company was delighted to have this oppurtunity, and decided to invest. Gollum, the prankster, once again watched the company’s negotioations with Mr. Radagast, and cried “Wolf!”. Once again, the company listened to Gollum and decided not to invest. Within the next year, Mr. Radagast’s company had gone up two hundred per cent. The company’s frustration grew, but they let Gollum stay.

One day the following year, another man came to the company. His name was Mr. Saruman. He said: Do you want to invest in the best company in the world? I am the famous mr forest and I rule the whole of Mordor, invest in me and you shall be rich beyond your dreams”. Gollum knew that Mr. Saruman was not the man he said he was, he had been decieving companies for years. Gollum once again cried “Wolf!”, and this time he really meant it. His company said: “Not this time, Gollum. We’re not going to miss out on another opportunity”. The company invested a majority of their assets in Mr. Saruman’s company.

The following year, all the money had vanished, as well as Mr. Saruman. As it turned out, Mr. Saruman was actually an infamous wolf on Wall Street. Gollum’s company went bankrupt and he lost his job because of his pranks.

Gollum is now working and living in a mine, and for some reason looking for something called “the one ring”.

The end.