Published on May 14, 2026

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NYAC

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.

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The Ignoramus Director

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

The Ignoramus Director

“Lights, camera, action!” the Director called.

Moments later the stage lights flicker on, the camera starts rolling, and all that is captured is a burst of gunpowder and Alex’s collapse mid-scene.

“Lissy, you were supposed to fire in the next scene, not now! Alex get up.” the Director hissed.

“But Sir, I didn’t take the shot.” Lissy said. Then thoughtfully added, “My gun isn’t even loaded.”

The Director, enraged, roared, “Then who did? You’re telling me that somebody just came into the room, casually took a stroll, and shot Alex? Also, why won’t he get up?”

Just then, a police crew burst into the studio.

“Everybody freeze!” the lead officer commanded. After everyone complied, he calmed down and said, “We have received reports of a murderer in the area and believe he’s here.”

The police cops spread out and began searching the area. They found Alex lying on stage and checked his pulse.

“He’s dead.” an officer called out.

The lead officer then asked, “Who killed him? Ladies and gentlemen, please confess, it will save our time and we will only keep you in jail for about the rest of your life.”

A man wearing a Darth Vader mask then stepped out from behind the cyclorama and said,

“It was me. Just make sure you don’t keep me in jail for any extra time. I look forward to the free holiday and especially the food. Thanks for the luxury treatment I will be getting.”

The police officer scratched his head and tried to figure out what the man meant by free holiday and clearly overworked his two braincells. He stood there stupidly for a minute, before grabbing the man’s arm and saying, “Let’s have a nice little chit-chat about what you have done and the consequences.”

The cops left with the masked man and the Director turned around and said, “What was all that commotion about? Anyways, Alex really should get up. It’s nearly noon. I really want to get two scenes over with as the hot dog counter closes soon.” l

Just then a police squad burst into the studio. Everyone’s eyes went to them. Chris, the knight with no muscles, said, “You just came. Why did you come back again? You already caught the murderer.”Saying this, Chris proved that his armor was not hiding a brain. He then went back to practicing for the next scene where he had to flex muscles.

The police commander, baffled from being interrogated regained his composure and said,

“Sir, I’m pretty sure you are mistaken. We are the only police crew in the area; all other police crews are more than two hours away. On a serious note, we have received a report of a murder over here. Can we please investigate?”

The Director, doing his best to look official, firmly put his foot down with a resounding

“No”.

The commander was stunned, and everyone smirked. After the chief managed to get his wits, he asked, “On what grounds?”

The Director nonchalantly replied, “Because the camera is still rolling.”

Two police officers examined the camera before saying, “Sir, it’s off.”

The police chief, now visibly enraged, shouted, “What do you mean the camera is on? It is literally off.”

The Director replied, “I’m talking about the security camera.”

The police officers went to the control room and opened the footage without saying a word to anyone. The footage clearly showed a fake police team, confidently walking in, taking the criminal and leaving. It portrayed them as efficient, confident, and yet completely unaffiliated with the government. Which truthfully was the complete opposite of what the actual police portrayed.

By now, the chief was fuming. He slowly turned and looked at the Director, then cuffed him

and said, “Interval starts now. There is a buy one get one on popcorn. Hope you enjoyed.”

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Tomorrow’s Headlines

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

Tomorrow’s Headlines

“Ethan, it’s time for school, wake up!” my dad called out.

Still groggy, I yawned, rubbed my eyes and went back to sleep. My dad then came into the room, exasperated that I had not gotten up, so he pulled open the curtains and let the morning light spill into the room.

“Fine!” I exclaimed, getting up.

After making sure I stayed awake, my dad went back to drinking his tea. After getting ready, I headed out. Outside, right under the doormat, was the daily newspaper. Thinking nothing about it, I scooped it up and put it in my bag.

The school day was a breeze and by three o’clock, I was back at my house and was about to start my homework. As I was taking my books out of my bag, I thought I noticed something odd about the newspaper, so I scanned the cover page but saw nothing unusual until I saw the date. Instead of being the current date, it was for the next day.

Thinking it was a mistake, I ignored it and began to read the paper. While reading, something felt off, so I opened my laptop and searched the headlines. According to

Google, all of the accidents happened this afternoon.

Confused, I decided to ask my dad as he had been working at the chronicle for over twenty years and was one of the senior-most staff there.

I glanced at the clock and realized it would be two hours before my dad came. Not in the mood to do any work, I started scrolling through YouTube. My friend Bob called and after a long chat, we ended up blaming the newspaper predicting the future on an AI program.

Later that night, my dad came home. As we were both eating together, I asked, “Dad, today morning I received a newspaper with tomorrow’s date on it and all the headlines occurred this afternoon. How is this possible?”

My dad paused, then sighed and said, ” Son, do you remember when your mom nearly died a few years back, but miraculously survived? That was my doing. The Chronicle has always had a secret that has made us far more successful than our competitors. What I will tell you stays here, understood?”

I promised him that I would not tell anybody.

Hearing this, my father continued, “Fifteen years ago, a man named Marcelo Fabian worked at the Chronicle. He believed humans write their own destinies. He discovered that by predicting the immediate future, and writing it down, it would come true. Through him,we discovered that human belief is a powerful tool, and if people truly believe in something, it will manifest sooner or later.”

“This cannot be true,” I interrupted rudely.

“Then how is the newspaper there?” my father replied.

I remained silent and my dad continued, “Using his teachings, we now predict what will happen the next day and keep the paper printed one day in advance. You somehow got one of these copies. Anything written in them will happen. You might have heard the saying ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’; nothing is truer. Mankind can write its destiny but cannot fight it, just as Wolverine cannot fight his fate, written by Stan Lee.”

Saying this, he got up and left me to ponder the implications of what I had just learned.

The next day, as I entered the classroom, Bobby yelled, “Ethan, I have proof that the sword is mightier than the pen. The pen writes on paper, and paper gets ripped by the sword. Hence, the sword is mightier than the pen.”

I laughed and took my seat next to him.

If I would have my own destiny, I would keep it as it has been as despite all the lows, some of the highs only come in the form of surprises.