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intro

butterflies
i exist!
scary, wonderful swans
the first home
do angels exist?
first death
and suddenly, a sister!
animalia
monsters in the closet
Lady Cruel of the basement
homeless... hopeless?

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Poems and short stories ©   by Arno and Anna unless differently stated (Disclaimer).

I was around the age of three. It was a cold, dark winter evening, and I lay in bed. My mother sat next to me on the bed, waiting for me to fall asleep. I looked out of the window, at a house across the street. In the gleaming streetlight I noticed that someone had thrown a snowball really high up the wall. It had left a mark of smashed snow.

Suddenly a thought came into my mind. "Mom, do angels exist?" I asked. I do not remember what she answered, only that it sounded like a maybe. Maybe angels exist. Maybe they don't. Maybe. What a difficult answer. That is when I realized that there are more thruths than absolute truths. And that there is hope, if I want there to be.