Published on May 14, 2026

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Wonder

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

Wonder

I wonder every day, if I can time travel? Go to space? What not?

Turns out I am not the only one. Are you out there too? Thinking about the same?

Wondering?

You know the feeling, the instinct, that something is happening…Going to happen?

I had that too…sadly, on a good sunny Sunday morning.

The whole day just went around by me, being worried, scared, precautioned,

observative and all the other intense words I have learnt in my English class.

The night time is the worst when you have such a feeling. Anyways, I get ready to sleep

after praying to God (a little extra that day) and its 2:12 am and I feel someone is staring

at me. I open my eyes and something weird is there. My heart, my brain everything

stopped working for a second with idiocy. I screamed so loud. The creature turns on the

light and it’s my sister. Wow!

After a lot of fighting with each other I finally got ready to sleep again but the weird

feeling just doesn’t leave me. I felt like someone was staring at me again and I open my

eyes and again someone’s there. I assume it’s my sister again, throw a pillow at her and

turn the other ways and see my sister in the bed next to mine.

So, who was that??

I was really sleepy to think about who or what it was so, I slept…

But I regret it now because I got a dream, just that, not exactly of me…It was like

watching through the eyes of someone else… I don’t know whose eyes was I seeing

through because I felt short (really short), confused and weird.

I started getting the dreams every day. The place is like earth but weird and better.

Greener, I guess.

I will be very honest. I liked the dreams. Sometimes I’m sleeping on grass and seeing the

starry night, sometimes I’m in a field full of different flowers, sometimes I’m having

fruits…I don’t know…The world just felt peaceful and better when I was asleep,

dreaming.

I started wondering about it every day. One night though, the dream was scary. It was all

dark. I felt scared and then I get hit by a pillow thrown by me.

I did not sleep that night. That’s kind of obvious.

It’s been a month and I didn’t forget about it, and, I did not have weird dreams, nothing.

Then on a sunny day, I came across a book in my library on loopholes in the galaxywhere people can travel from different time periods and places. There was also a paper

with the steps to make a loophole machine written. I obviously wanted to make it and

come to know how did I see myself in the dream? What happened that night?

It took me an entire month to make it and thankfully my father helped me with it

although he really did not believe it. It didn’t work as he said but I really wanted to time

travel!! I checked the machine again and again…tried to do random stuffs and I don’t

know.

The next day, somehow the machines lights were on. It was working!! I got ready and I

went to see what happened that night, whether it was actually me seeing me. Turned

out, it was the time travelling me who was hit by the pillow. The dreams, still a mystery.

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𝖲𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

Spellbound

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

– Emily Dickinson

It was a warm autumn evening in Edinburgh, one that reminded Ruelle of the older days.

She wrapped her scarf tight and left her cabin. A gust of wind whirled in her face, making

her shudder. The book in her hands was as heavy as lead. She clutched it firmly, her fingers

digging into the leather binds. Ruelle bit her lip, her mind running, her pulse racing. She

shook her head, staring at the trail ahead of her in a feeble attempt to clear her mind.

A few minutes later she was surrounded by what felt like a thousand trees, leaves fluttering

and swaying before falling leisurely towards the ground, reminding her of the serene

sentiment of snow. Rue inhaled the sweet, crisp scent of autumn air and admired the reds

and oranges of mid-November around her. She tucked her hair behind her ears, smiling

when a maple leaf pitched itself on her head.

Her thoughts faded out to whispers as she stood in front of a magnificent library, eyes

widening at its glory. A large, woodlike structure with two tall towers on opposite ends, long

strings of pale yellow lights hung loosely around the pillars. Its embrace looked mystic and

melodious. A slight fog clouding the windows blurred the colours of the books indoors.

Rue took a tentative step towards the cottage as the vast sea of leaves crunched under her

boots. She gazed at her reflection in the door, at the piercing green eyes staring back at

her. They resembled the fresh green grass of a meadow. Not unlike the first breath of

spring after a harsh, bitter winter.

She shook her head and creaked open the wooden door.

Ruelle held her breath, the sweet, aromatic smell of sandalwood and old books making her

head spin. A small chandelier hung low from the ceiling and delicate, enthralling lamps lit

the rest of the bookstore, luminous and dreamlike. Intricately carved bookshelves stood in

long rows across the room, alluring, like a spell.

The tainted sound of leaves whistling and wind blowing harshly made way to comfortable

silence as Rue shut the door behind her. Faint traces of ancient dust in the air landed on

her lips. Her breath caught in her throat and she trembled slightly. Was it from the wind?She hesitantly grabbed a book off one of the shelves, an emerald green hardcover,

fragments lined with gold. A fading page slipped out of the binding. Ruelle blew on the

book, coughing when a layer of dust soared up in the air. She opened it to a random page

and a line of text caught her eye.

“‘How can you not the language of poetry.

’”

know the arts if you are them itself?’ he exclaimed.

‘Our souls, you see, speak

Ruelle read the words over and over. Until she felt a dim spark in her heart. Her eyes

gleamed in the moonlight and she gave a slight smile. Rue turned the book to the first page

and began reading. She read until her breathing slowed. Until her heart stopped pacing.

Until she couldn’t remember time and memory and everything except the enchanting

stillness of words and pages and the minutes fading away as quickly as they’d come by.

Outdoors, dawn swept over the burgh like a warm blanket coaxing a young child to sleep.

The sky sparkling with a million stars, winking down at passers by. And as Ruelle sat on her

chair, knees close to her chest, gazing into the night sky, she realised she had found home

in a place she never expected. She was spellbound by literary captivation.

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I hold human hands

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

I hold human hands

After death, there are those brave ones, determined ones, excited ones, and even fearful and reluctant

ones who decide to go on. Whereas the cowardly ones, scared of change, ones who have always

feared the unknown, decide that they would rather settle for the loose, translucent life that is but a

mockery of the old one, and remain here as ghosts. I too, was offered this clear choice after my death.

I did not lack the spirit which is required to go on. It infuriates me every day to be surrounded by

these fellow creatures of mine who have nothing worthwhile in them except that of simpering small

talk, but I would not give up my situation for the world.

It has given me time to observe. Sometimes it scares me that for all of eternity I shall be trapped here,

watching, never experiencing any change, for the only change that was offered me, I refused.

Sometimes I wonder what they would all discover there, when they went on. Peace? Oblivion?

Punishment? Must be well-organised with a surplus of resources to cope with an endless supply of

people pouring in- newborns who barely breathed in their first little breaths before they arrived with

their fresh little souls; and other, older worldly beings, their souls all knarly and twisted like steely old

trees. I myself am trapped in a little corridor between true life and true death, weaker in spirit than I

used to be, but at least I can see everything I always wished to see. I hover around the mortals, and I

watch their exchanges, with interest, with disbelief and sometimes with teary eyes because I do not

believe I extracted as much as I possibly could from my life.

Something that surprises me is how easily people give their hands to each other. They give it in

fondness, they cling to each other, they grip with support, they hold on, they ache when they let go.

Out of sheer loneliness, what I felt then and what I feel now, I sometimes fleetingly slip my hand into

another lonesome looking stranger’s hand on the street. Would they feel a small comfort? I hope so.

But what I do the most is watch over faces that remind me of his.

He died a long time ago, and so soon after my own death that while I was still getting my bearings in

this place, he died and went on. I sought for him on Earth in vain for several years, until I realised

such desolation of his presence could only mean he must too have died. His ardour and his spirit made

it natural he would never be afraid of what came ahead, so he but passed through the ghost realm, and

I was wrenched over with grief that I would never see him again. Now it has been thousands of years,

and I only just a faint flicker of his face.

Sometimes I see glimpses of his expression in another human, and I shadow the face for months. It is

silly, I know. I was always severely scolded during my life for devoting myself to people.

“You cannot fall in love with someone because you believe they have the capacity to understand you!

Have they even yet attempted? Do they even care? They will sacrifice all to develop the capability to

understand the one that they love! And you are not that one!”

***

The chains that link across my waist,

Make as if to loosen,

As fearful, horrible Cousin of Hope,

Wound in insanity, smile of terror, Misplaced HopeWaves his greetings to me at the prow of his ship ‘Fantasy’

Sailing lazily across the bay.

And though I dream again

And long as I longed before,

The jingle of the silver key at his belt,

Echoes an ominous metronome on shore.

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Birthday of Combined Dreams

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

Birthday of Combined Dreams

Alora woke up early in the morning. Although she kept her eyes shut tight.

she told herself firmly. Dream of a weird colony full of different creatures.

“It was a dream,

”

There was an abruptly loud tapping noise.

“Happy birthday!” bawled her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Clinton.

Alora quickly got ready and had her breakfast.

A weirdly dressed old lady comes to give her a necklace with different stones each birthday and

every time brings a new kid with her. This year she got a shiny purple stone.

Later, Alora and her parents went shopping.

Mr. and Mrs. Clinton had already sat in the car. When Alora opened the door, she quickly bangs

the door as if she had seen something very bizarre. Thinking it’s just a figment of her

imagination, she quickly opened the door and tried sitting in the car when she got transported

into a new world.

Alora noticed that the door she entered from had disappeared.

In hope of escaping, she started searching around when she saw a group of people. It was the

old lady with kids.

The old lady with those kids took Alora with them to their home. Alora’s mind started shaking off

when she saw their long pointy ears, sparkling fingers and their changing faces.

After handing over the hot chocolate to Alora, the old lady and the kids sat down in front of her.

“You… you’re a magical elf”

, said the old lady.

“What!” She exclaimed.

“How is that even possible?”

“Yes!, you’re an elf, Santa’s beloved helper”

, said a boy. Today, you’re going to be getting some

magical powers related to nature, animals, controls and more but it is very rare that someone

does not get a magical power.

“Don’t worry, even I’m going to be getting a super power”

, said a tiny little girl named Melina,

but what if I don’t get a super power.

Let’s go!, it’s just 10 mins to 12pm, hurry up, screamed the old lady.For getting their powers, there was a ritual being performed. First, dip their hands into 4 types of

potions and decide which one to go for. Second, wear a bangle and dip their hands into potion

reciting a prayer. Third, one old elf comes and makes three cuts on your wrist through the

bangle but if your skin does not bleed and the blood becomes ice then you’re a magical elf.

Fourth, the last one, keep your hand on top of fire and your hand is ready to shine.

Everyone was sad to hear that Melina did not get any power. After hours of seeing others doing

the ritual, it was finally Alora’s turn. Her hands were shivering as she stepped ahead. The ritual

began. Alora’s hand started shining blue, then green and finally yellow. Alora’s power was

elemental control. Everyone was shocked, after 56 years someone had got the rarest power.

“Grandma you’re correct”

, said Melina. Alora is a power princess.

“Yes, dear!” Said the old lady. Alora’s going to get the best training these 2 years.

With great power comes great responsibility , thought Alora. The only thing Alora could think of

was to escape. It seemed that her whole world was turned upside down.

While searching around she collected stones with different symbols and solved the puzzle, she

escaped but was unknown to the future.

Alora was shocked to see that the time had stopped until she came into the car.

While Alora thought it was a dream, she forgot that when she touched the small plant it rapidly

started growing.

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A Ray of Hope

• Post author By tbrg
• Post date May 14, 2026

A Ray of Hope

Boom! The world shook and everything went dark.

I woke up in a room, which had all the walls painted white and a blue curtain beside my

bed, to the left. Attached to my arm were two machines. One seemed like a pulse reader,

and the other might have been an infusion pump. I immediately realized that I was in the

hospital. I tried to remember what had happened and why I was there but failed. On the

side of my bed, I noticed a red button and pressed it. While moving my arm to press the

button, my entire body screamed in agony, the pain rupturing and echoing through both

bones and muscles alike. Two minutes later, a nurse arrived, looking as though she had

just been to ten funerals.

The nurse said, “Hello Sir, how can I be of assistance? How do you feel?” When she asked

me how I was feeling, I replied “My body aches and there is this painful sensation in my

bones and muscles. Is it possible to get a pain reliever? Also, why am I here?” The nurse

handed me a pain killer and said solemnly, “Sir, there was a bombing in your city. You are

one of the few survivors. Many have died and lots have their fates hanging in the air. You

should read the news.”

I glanced at the papers on the other side of the bed, exactly where the nurse was pointing

and nodded. As the nurse left, I began to leaf through the headlines of the major papers,

‘Delo’, ‘Dnevnik’ and ‘Vecer’. The headline of ‘Delo’ read ‘Bomb attack on Ljubljana causes

mass destruction and panic. All military personnel have been put on high alert.

Government has declared a State of Emergency.’

By the end of the article, I was shocked to see how less the government of some countries,

such as China care about peace and maintaining international relations, despite being in

the United Nations. From the statistics in the newspaper, I wondered what our landscape

looked like now, so I looked out of the window to see the amount of damage and

immediately regretted it.

The buildings on the other side of the window were burnt to the ground. All that remained

was ashes and dust. Through the dust I could see the figures of men, women and children.

Some of them were crying, but most just sat still. They were injured but didn’t try to treat

their injuries. Most of them just sat silently as the sun set over the once great city of

Ljubljana. Their silence conveyed more than any cry of anguish ever could. It was their

shared suffering, and they chose do endure it without complaint.

One begged a passing police officer for help but was unable to say or do anything when

asked for his identity. My stomach twisted with the sickening realization that all of us hadbeen stripped of our identities. The worst part was that we could not go back to our normal

lives after this incident. No matter how hard we would try, physical and mental trauma

would still persist. Moreover, without our identity, we were no one. A billionaire without

proof of identity might as well be a beggar.

Without proof of our identities, we would have lost access to the money in our bank

accounts. Our emergency stashes of money would have been obliterated along with our

houses. Without money, we would not be able to buy any necessities and our whole life

would become a struggle for survival. My heart grieved to see such loss, not only for my

country, but mostly for my fellow humans.

I cling to a ray of hope that someone someday will find this and show the world a better,

non-violent path on which we may continue our journeys.