Kuvitus

The Gentle Giant Who Found The Universe

Once upon an absence of time there was a gentle giant. 

The gentle giant was wandering around The Absence of Everything and came across something. 

It was a tiny ball made of glass, seemingly small but the gentle giant saw that it contained the universe. 

The gentle giant took the ball home and placed it on his mantelpiece. 

There was no concept of time where the gentle giant lived but one by one his bookcases started filling up with stories from the tiny universe that now rested on a piece of soft cloth on the mantelpiece, taken from the sheets of the gentle giant’s bed where he slept. 

The gentle giant spent his absence of days reading the stories that slowly formed a huge library around the gentle giant’s residence. 

The gentle giant would spend ages reading about the adventures of the occupants of his tiny universe. Sometimes he would open a book and read the life story of a plant that grew in the midst of a rainforest. 

Sometimes he would read about the birth and death of a star. 

Sometimes he would read a story about a being that had loved and lost and found love again. 

The gentle giant treasured every word. 

He read about humans who prayed to their gods asking for a blessing, sometimes a curse. 

Every once in a while the gentle giant would take the universe in his hand and try to peek inside, but the things inside the glass ball were too tiny for the gentle giant to see. 

The gentle giant would read about destroyed dreams and lives, he read about despair and violence. 

Sometimes he gave in to the urge to take the universe off his mantelpiece and close his hand around the tiny globe. 

It would be so easy to crack open, for the gentle giant was strong and the universe was so small. 

But although the gentle giant loved his tiny universe, he was lonely, and sometimes the universe seemed so cruel. The words he read raged over his mind, that now was filled with anger. 

While reading, the angry giant came across a diary of a little girl. 

”I know you are there, gentle giant, even though nobody believes me. Don’t you worry about us. I will go for a walk tomorrow and describe everything I see in my diary, so you can read about it in your library. I love you, gentle giant.” 

And the gentle giant opened his hand, where he had been squeezing the tiny glass ball. 

Carefully, he placed the universe back on his mantelpiece and kept on reading. 

The Doll’s House

You were born into the neighbourhood of Suburbia. It’s a pleasant community, but there is one house you always wanted to visit. The house is open for everyone, all you have to do is to cross the right box in the survey that is offered to you at the entrance. 

The house is magical, or so you have heard. In this house all your dreams can come true, they tell you, so you shiver with excitement as you finally step over the threshold. 

You see the space unwind as you take your first steps inside. 

Beautiful hardwood floor forms under your steps, the shade of rosewood and freshly poured cocoa. 

You smell the air. Somewhere in the house, there is an apple pie baking. 

You step into the living room. The furniture looks just like the ones in a film that you saw as a child, 

creating a vision of comfort, stability. 

Memories of rainy evenings spent in front of a television, a dinner tray, laughter echoing from the speakers. 

The walls are pastel green, with tiny flowers painted on the wallpaper. 

You feel like a rosebud growing in an old man’s garden. 

The curtains are the colour blue. You like the colour blue, it’s soothing. 

Still it’s not the same as the sky on a clear summer day. 

You find a bowl of colourful candy on the TV table. You take a handful and put them in your pocket. You might like a snack later and there is no one to tell you no. 

On the wall there is a painting of a setting sun. The red hue mixes with deep blue of the space above, the stars are coming out, creating a distant white glow over the horizon. There is a little house on a field under the maddening sky. It looks familiar, but the cracked paint and the walls on a brink of collapse don’t fit with your distant memory. 

You walk back into the hallway. 

Under the large stairs there is a small door, but you find it locked. You are almost sure the key could be found from the house’s many cupboards, but you get a slight feeling that you might not want to discover what else is hidden inside those drawers. 

On a corner table near the door you see a statue of an eagle. 

In its steel claws the bird holds a squirming snake. You pity the poor creature, it looks so very small compared to the bird of prey. 

You take the first careful steps up the stairs. The wood feels sturdy under your feet, but you hear a strange clicking sound on every step. It mixes up with ticking of a clock upstairs, owl shaped, eyes moving with the movements of the pendulum. 

Kuvassa tarinan aukeama. Oikeanpuoleisella sivulla piirretty kuva värikkäistä, putoavista kivistä.

The upstairs is dimly lit, shadows are forming in the corners. There is a hallway and doors on both sides of carpeted floor. You try the handles, but the doors are locked. The soft carpet muffles the sound of your wary steps as you walk ahead. 

There is one more door in the end of the hallway. You are surprised to find the door unlocked, it makes a squeaking sound when you push it open.  

You step into a room. In the opposite wall there is a full-size mirror, freshly polished. In the mirror you see a porcelain face with a painted-on smile, clothes made out of napkins and cupcake liners. Your pocket made of paper rips open and the colourful candy patter on the floor like rocks, that they are. 

You are a plaything in a doll’s house, you realize, as you hear the lock click shut behind you. 

Ante Meridiem

Corpus Delicti

The Circle of Life

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