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Month: März 2022

Metaphysisches geblahkekse

Metaphysisches geblahkekse

Metaphysisches geblahkekse das waren seine Worte. Er hatte keinen Atem mehr. Keine Worte mehr, um mich weiter zu beleidigen. Seine Augen, so sie noch sehen konnte, starrten in das Unbekannte hinter der Physik, starrten in die Meta-Physik. Ich wusste, dass der Tag damit gelaufen war. Mein Abschluss in Philosophie war damit gegessen, vorbei, absolutely over. Ich blickte aus dem Fenster in die tränenverhangenen Wolken, die zwischen den Hochhäusern hingen. Ich starrte auf sie, als ob sie etwas daran ändern konnten….

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Friday – A tale

Friday – A tale

One last friday was her wish, had been her wish. He knew it. It had been years ago, that promise about one last friday. But she had died on tuesday and on thursday she had been buried in a shallow grave next to her favorite spot near the churches door, where she had spent her time waiting for him. And now it was over. Her flesh had been eaten away by worms and other godless insects, but it had been…

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The shadow of the small man

The shadow of the small man

He was crawling, lower than the rocks in front of him, jagged and angry rocks with their voices full of despair and an eternity of suffering, imagined and real. He stopped, looked up the sky. A few clouds were dangling on the heavenly tent, looking at him and his wounds. He smiled grimly, put down this club and put his mighty hands on the rock, cleaned them from the blood and the ooze. He then took his club again. The…

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The little king-not-king

The little king-not-king

There once was a king. He was no real king, because in the country, he lived, they had killed the kings and emporers many years ago. But still, he was a king. A kind of a king. He had survived by eating rats. And people say, that you become, what you eat. So he sat on his little toilet-throne. And he pondered. And he looked up on the wall and saw the pictures of the former kings. I mean: not…

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Dreams of Gold and Descent – A Spaceballs-Descent-Fanfic

Dreams of Gold and Descent – A Spaceballs-Descent-Fanfic

The king is dead, the king is dead the proclamation of these words rippled through the kingdom of Druidia. The high elves did not answer, because Druidia was not earth or the middle of it, but an external system, strangely inhabited by usual people and their king. Who was dead. As usual, when these words are uttered. My father dead? The princess sat at her room, staring down the mass of people which ran to the castle. Thousands of them…

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