Diseased minds, foul and wretched figures that move and act on the basis of words and numbers, occupied the narrow and dark escalator. They were all blocking the next from moving in either direction. They swayed left and right with no purpose and no intention, as they were hopelessly carried down into the depths by the transport machine. Who built the escalator? The escalator was only a machine, but a machine with a purpose! And in a time of spiritual depression, they all obeyed the escalator; they pleased it with the remaining willpower they had to live...

Two years in the calmness of the city had made Henry a "new boy", as Aunt Julia had remarked upon their arrival to the village. Henry had started to immobilise in the dullness of his room, in their house; and his mother knew that this was going to lead to his undoing. That is why she had suggested they visit the village again - for Henry's sake. The young boy in his street-wear and with a snow-white music player in his left hand now appeared in the doorway and with a sulky pout left on his face, for the elders, he headed out the front door. His mother did nothing but...

Lord Pharion, a comparatively calm, young man, approached the unicorn. It was known that unicorns had a strength and speed overtaking any existing animal in the land of Ertodomes. He had heard these stories, but he believed in the unbelievable, and on this grey, stormy day, he intended to catch one. The white wild horse with its magical, transparent horn between its two eyes, and above its brow, stopped chewing and listened carefully. The lord knew that the animal sensed his presence. He assumed the unicorn still wasn't sure of the fact, and making a quick...

The sun started to set. The golden, hot, and tiring day changed its mood to a calm scene, painted in a warm reddish colour, and brought to life with the cooling sea wind. Tim stood on a cliff, next to the water. He had climbed his way through the sharp rocks of the bayside. He had started walking from the beach, covered with pebbles, and he ended up on the very end, of the left side of the bay. As he watched the resting land of power, dynamics, and beauty, his mind started to wonder about the past. He remembered yesterday, when he was still living to have moments...

The year was 1921. August the 5th, if I can remember correctly. It was a bright and sunny afternoon. I was warming up the engines of my canvas-winged, one passenger aeroplane on a tiny airport near my home town, Ravenna, in Italy; when my long time not seen good old friend from high school, John Miller approached me. I cannot explain the surprise I felt when I spotted his familiar face on the friendly airport that I used as my private flying circle. What followed however, was not nearly as pleasant as that. A few steps away from me, he suddenly stopped - I can still...