(1)
It was in the last hours of the morning when the hoopoe
landed on the windowsill. Her brown feathers mingled nicely
with the yellow glow the autumn flowers emitted from the
ground. The sun was shining with its enigmatic glow, which
comes once a year - in the first days of autumn. It was now
warm.
A soft breeze ruffled through the leaves of the apple tree
and the secret sound of autumn was making its way to
brighten the morning of all who could hear it. A little
fluffy dog jogged easily down the street. It stopped in
front of the window and looked with a kind of mesmerized
look at the hoopoe. Meanwhile, the bird was looking at a
marvel - a gray monster was looking at her from the room's
floor. Its features reminded the hoopoe of itself and left
it glued to the window trying to see what it was.

The apple tree was covered with ripe apples. A cool gust of
wind could easily make them fall down. The kids didn't have
a taste of it yet. Even an apple is not worth going out in
the rain, getting soaking wet and getting in a fight with
you mom. A branch began trembling. It was too weak to hold
the giant apple that was hanging on it. A weak gust of wind
came slightly to shake the tree. Dozens of new leaves now
decorated the grass, along with a big red apple.
A child was running down the street. It was calling "Doggy,
doggy!!!" obviously calling for the little, fluffy mutt. An
ecstatic look of joy was on the face of the little boy. He
was dressed in a blue coat with a furry blue hat (obviously
too big for him) almost falling from his small head. His
blond curls were flying in the wind. "Doggy, doggy!!!" he
continued to call. His miniature boots splashing in the
water puddles and making his feet wet (which would surely
make mommy angry later). His mittenned hands were waving
through the air, as he struggled not to lose his balance.
"Doggy, doggy!!!"
He was approaching the tree, when a red spot came into his
attention. A glint appeared in his green eyes. He looked
down, then smiled and giggled.
He laid his eyes on that apple days ago.
He leaned over and picked it up. It slipped through his
hands. He took off his mittens and lifted it again. It was
wonderful. He pulled out his shirt from under his coat and
rubbed the apple clean. Then, after relishing its perfect
look, he bit into it.
The dog suddenly turned at the sound and barked in
recognition. The hoopoe was startled and flew towards the
safe tree top while the dog quickly ran to greet the child
with a moist lick on the face. He giggled, scratched behind
its ears and headed for the stairs with the dog close
behind. Munching on his second apple bite he sat on the
stairs, gazing at the hoopoe, which was looking at this
strange blue fluff with interest, turning its head with
sudden movements, as if trying to get a look at the blue
object from different angles.
The panting dog curled beside the boy's legs, put its head
on its paws and closed its eyes - eased by his master's
presence.

(2)
The red barn stood apart form the village. It always made
you feel as if it was some kind of an outcast. Its height
and mass only made matters worse, for it made a drastic
contrast with the petit white houses that lay abundant in
the small village streets. Nevertheless, the barn was always
radiating a special golden glow. Some said it came from the
sun's rays reflecting from the masses of hay stored in the
barn.
Others said it was something else.
That morning, after the rain, the barn looked like a
monument of solitude in a sea of humanity. It was always
full of small animals, which looked for shelter between the
walls of this great convent. A young sparrow flew past the
only window. A few moments later it came back to sit on the
windowsill. It seemed as if something has captured its
attention. It became verily so, as the small creature began
examining a checkered bundle lying in the hay with only part
of it protruding through the straw. The little bird tried to
focus on the bundle, but a great gray entity formed on the
straw capturing its attention. Inconspicuously, the sparrow
spread its wings, and seeing the effect it had on the gray
creature, which became immensely larger, it flew off in
fright, madly chirruping.
The sound made the bundle move. A head protruded through the
checkered blanket. It was of a young man, surely in his late
teens. His short hair blended with the golden glow emitted
by the hay. Two searching tired-looking green eyes looked at
the windows looking for the source of the sound, which made
them open. The eyes turned at the light and a small rabbit,
hiding from the storm, froze. It caught the radiant blaze,
which fired the green eyes. The flame, burning inside, was
unfit for the outside. The young man made the illusion that
he was not altogether young. The eyes were like two emeralds
from another time and another era.
The dazed rabbit sniffed the air, felt a cool breeze, and
suddenly jumping up, it ran out - into the cold autumn air.
The boy looked at the running rabbit, until it disappeared
through one of the multiple holes in the walls of the barn.
The boy staggered to his knees, and almost falling, he began
to laugh. Something was tickling him. He put his hands into
his shirt to catch the elusive thing. Sliding inside his
shirt, the little animal made him laugh even harder.
Finally, he got hold of a small kitten. The gray-furred
little creature looked out of the boy's hands and yawned.
The boy smiled and fondled the kitten. He drew his hands
closer to his face and stared into the small animal's eyes.
He smile grew wider and the kitten drew out his paw to touch
the boy's face.
The little paw touched the strange thing and withdrew making
the bearer of the strange thing giggle.
The boy approached the barn's second floor doors and threw
them open. A gust of bone-chilling wind made the kitten
cuddle up in the boy's hands and close its eyes. The boy sat
down on the slightly wet hay, which had a taste of the
storm, and looked at the revealed world. The kitten felt a
warm ray of light caressing its small head. It tried to
fight it off with the small abovementioned paw, but to no
avail. The small head moved and two small openings revealed
the lazy green eyes. It looked on into the world.

(3)
Once, I heard that you could tell whether you love someone
if you could stare at that person sleeping for hours at a
time and with each moment that passes by you found something
new in that person. You never grow tired of looking at that
person - each moment lets you discover new worlds.

A lazy ray of light was slowly creeping over the rumpled
sheets. A man's face lit up in the morning light. His face
was covered with bright bristles that reflected the sun's
rays. His hand was resting within another - a more delicate
one. The hands held each other as if nothing else on earth
could hold them in this world.
The ray continued to travel up her arm. When it reached her
eyes it lingered and they opened. Two brown pupils peeped
through the half-open eyelids. They focused on the ceiling
and started to travel towards the hands. Their joined hands
lay together between them. She looked at them and smiled a
smile, which opened up a whole new world for you in her. Her
gaze shifted and started to move slowly up his arm. When it
finally rested on his face she drew out a sigh of relief. It
was true.

The time passed. She hardly blinked. Her attention was given
solely to him. Hours passed by.
Suddenly his eyes drew open. A fearful look was in his eyes.
His eyes restlessly were looking for something. Finally his
found hers.
They both smiled. A hand moved. Their eyes immediately
focused on their joined hands. Their smile grew wider. Their
eyes slowly wandered up their arms to meet each other again.
They remained looking at each other's eyes. Discovering new
worlds. Finding new meanings.
Words were meaningless. Nothing could convey their world to
reality. Floating in their minds passed images of love. One
cannot simply imagine love. One has to feel it close to see
it there.

(4)
A creaking sound was heard through the sound of rustling
leaves. It wasn't that kind of creak that made you shiver.
On the contrary, it was a sound that caressed you. It was an
anachronistic sound that came from those long childhood days
when you sat near you grandfather, both of you staring at
the blazing wood in the fireplace. The sound that brought
back the memories of long lost stories, of long lost pasts.
The sound that made you smile and feel warm inside. It drew
you near, nearer and nearer. When finally you could see a
small house on the outskirts of town. The house was
something surreal. It had no feeling of belonging to the
present. It was something out of a dream.
The paint was almost gone and now nothing covered the red
bricks. The house was surrounded by an evergreen garden.
Even now only a small part of it seemed affected by the
autumn. The garden was in a sense a guardian of the old
past. The house was almost inaccessible. Only if you looked
closely and attentively you could distinguish a small path
that led to the house. Following this obscure path you could
at one point notice a porch. The porch was empty, but a
rocking chair stood there still. The house seemed to breathe
with each creak of the chair. It seemed to awake after a
long slumber.
The trees didn't prevent the rays of the autumn sun from
touching the wrinkled face. The man didn't seem to be very
old - his gilded hair still retained its natural glow. He
was in a tailored black suit and held a briefcase. His feet
were clad in the finest leather boots. His hair was neatly
combed - each white hair in its designated place on that
distinguished head. His hands were neat with shortly clipped
nails. The soft skin on his palms was foreign to the rough
wood surface upon which they now rested. The cuffs were the
correct and perfect size.
Sitting in the chair he was an enclave of modern life in
that house. He placed the briefcase on the ground and
relaxed. Listening to the sweet sounds of the autumn wind.
He passed his hand through the air and relished the feeling.
He smiled and closed his eyes.
Suddenly a gust of wind blew the door open. It made a
deafening sound hitting the wall. Despite the noise, the man
failed to move.

He was seeing a little blond boy running out of the house -
throwing open the door with strength. The door hit the wall
with unimaginable strength and made a woman start up in
fright. She frowned looking at the approaching boy, but
couldn't help laughing with him when he finally reached her.
The woman lay her knitting aside and placed the boy on her
lap. They both looked at each other and smiled.
A gust of wind moved the treetops. The rustle of the leaves
was almost deafening. Hundreds of them fell to the ground
and covered it with a new layer of carpeting. The little boy
started laughing again.
Hearing the gate open, he got up from his mother's lap,
descended the stairs, and ran headlong to greet his father
who was approaching them. The father threw down his
briefcase and tried to pick his son up. The boy was running
too fast, and the father getting hold of him, fell down on
the fresh carpeting with his son.
It took them a minute to recover and then start laughing.
They rolled on the grass and smiled. Stopping, they lay on
he ground and listened. A creaking sound was the one thing
besides the wind that they heard. The creaking caressed
them. They closed their eyes and listened.

The old man stood up, took his briefcase, and headed toward
the gate following the obscure path. He laughed and started
running.