In My Not-So-Humble Opinion

The mild chill of early winter and sporadic raindrops have their way of dancing you into your thoughts. Even though its chilly, as soon as you're in your head, you don't feel the cold anymore. Actually it's quite cozy. It feels like you're under control. That is how Greg felt that evening. He closed his eyes while feeling the vast emptiness in his chest, but the raindrops were poking him back to reality, urging him not to go there, not to dwell over the past. The view from his office balcony was nice, it was not astounding, but with just enough space to feel the city's breath beneath him. The red sky above him, a typical landscape of an urban jungle, painted by the orange street lights bleeding into the thick mist created from the smoke, dust and air humidity, once again seemed to him as if shielding the eyes of the city from a stellar event no one was supposed to see. Like a veil on all of our heads, at the same time protecting us, and smothering us, keeping us ...

Ron was sitting next to the window with a gun in his hand, when death came into the room. He was watching the wind blowing out the leaves from the street in short but powerful bursts. As death needs no permission, no doors, no keys nor locks to come in, he did not hear it enter the room, but did not get scared when he saw it either. Did not even flinch. In front of him was a chess board, all set up, white pieces on his side. "I knew you would come eventually", Ron said. "...and I felt that you would come soon". Death said nothing, just simply leaned forward towards Ron for a while,  and then moved from the other side of the chessboard, where the black pieces were standing. - "Do you play, Ronald?",death asked."Yes I do.Would you like us to play a game?" - "I am not sure that would be fair", death replied,"after all, I was there, present, when the game was invented.The match would not be very interesting". - "We could...