“HEY WHAT IS GOING ON!” Her smile is wide, her hair tied back in a ponytail, and there are inexplicable hearts flying all around her. Juandalyn’s icon rolls his eyes. He judges her, and judges her hard. The pretty and witty girls his companions sung about, he can understand why people can like them, but he cannot understand silly girls. Poki’s icon smiles at him with eyebrows raised, his face absolutely perfect and very very perfect, and also a bit perfect.

“Nothing much,” he answers. “Just hanging out. You wanna come?”

She takes a grinning glance at Juandalyn’s icon, who sighs exasperatedly and judges her harder than ever. Poki’s icon continues smiling mildly, forgiving. “YES I WOULD LIKE THAT!”

“You…”

“Yep. Thirty.”

“Thirty.” The day was hot, his tea had cooled off. “You bought thirty of them.”

“Thought it’d be a grand idea.”

“Mh.” Albrecht stared at the ground. “Thirty.”

From far off, a low, prolonged, deep sound could be heard; the wind brought the smell of manure from the same direction.

“Paul. You bought. Thirty. Alpacas.”

“They’re really soft. You should touch one.”

“Some things in life are bad, they can really make you mad…”

The convict next to him sang loudly, as if that would help anyone. Bernd scowled in his general direction. “No.”

“Other things just make you swear and curse!”

That, Bernd could not disagree with, so he stayed silent.

“If you’re chewing on life’s gristle, don’t grumble!”

He grumbled.

“Give a whistle!”

A cross - a cross was torture.

But this singing? This was hell.

“You want to live?”

He nodded. “I have not… I’m not a monster. I haven’t killed anyone. I won’t kill anyone. I swear, I swear.” He kept his face humanly, the hideous, beastly appearance hiding behind the innocent face of a young boy. “Please, pl-“

His pleading was interrupted by her stake through his heart. She looked at him with cold, merciless eyes, stayed silent, and took her weapon back. “Please,” she whispered to herself. “No.”

She was performing, her hair forming an intricate Brandenburger Tor, in front of ten thousand fans in Berlin.

That boy is

Albo took out his knife. Someone had stepped onto his bare foot with a shoe with metal cap. That had not served to make him very happy.

he ate my heart

Paolo stood by his side, eyeing the mysteriously sticky floor with disinterest. “Can we start now?” he asked and looked up to see Albo grinning. That was a positive answer, he thought.

a monster in my bed

Three people were too close to them. They ended up on the floor, writhing, screaming in pain, blood gushing from their wounds. Albo raised his arms in triumph, while mass panic took hold of the other fans.

could I love him?

“I can’t believe you are getting married.”

They had met in uni, years ago, and had been forced to live together for a short period, but he had never thought he would see her on his stag party. His marriage would take place in thirteen hours, and here she stood, skirt barely covering her ass and a bottle of beer in her hand. He had succeeded in life, his job paid well, his wife-to-be was intelligent and beautiful and funny, expecting his child; and Jan and Jette had studied together.

They had studied together.

“And I can’t believe you are a stripper.”

She kept a straight face.

“Loosen up, Jan.”

The clock stroke midnight. Albi, in Line’s body, looked at his body, and vice versa. They had survived one whole day in the body of the other, they had learned numerous very interesting and informative things, they had both grown immensely as persons and had learnt to appreciate the hardships each of them had to face, yadda yadda yadda.

Now it was time to return to their rightful bodies.

The clock struck one minute after midnight. They were not changed. Albi had boobs, and Line, well, Line was still stuck in his body. They stared at each other.

This was not how this was supposed to go.

“You dumb bitch!” With flowers braided into his hair and a skirt covering his knees, he had not expected her to see him like this, and he had not expected the ensuing argument. She should not judge him; she should love him, they were lovers.

Tears were visible in his eyes as he grabbed for the nearest object, grabbed an avocado and threw it in her direction. Weakened by sorrow and tears, he did not have enough strength, and the vegetable hit the ground where it burst open. They both looked at the mess, and that was when she broke out in tears as well. He had never been able to manage her tears, and ran, out of the door, out of the building, out of her life.

Out of their life.

“Before we married, I have laid with numerous wenches,” he said while toying with her hair. She mumbled something that could not be understood clearly, but Daniel continued nevertheless, his arm slung around his wife’s shoulders. “None of them has born a bastard I know of. It is you, my precious little doe.” Charlene didn’t look up at him. “You are not barren, you are my treasure. It is my failure.”

“It is not,” she whispered against his skin. “We have to persevere. I will gift you with many beautiful golden boys.”

He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

Die Sonne warf grelle Strahlen in das Zimmer. Miau, dachte sie, und blickte sich um, bevor sie sich entschied, zwei Kreise auf dem Boden zu drehen. Dann sprang sie das Bett, miau mau, und begann, die Matratze mit ihren Pfoten zu bearbeiten. Sie sah eins von den großen miaus und legte sich neben sie. Sie mochte diese miau sehr gerne. Die große miau war warm an ihrer Seite, und sie begann, zu schnurren.

“Miau”, murmelte sie, und die große miau atmete tief und regelmäßig, antwortete aber sonst nicht.