Article purportedly by Jules Verne, but probably by his son. According to the editor's note at the beginning: "In the Year 2889_ was first published in the _Forum_, February, 1889; p. 262. It was published in France the next year. Although published under the name of Jules Verne, it is now believed to be chiefly if not entirely the work of Jules' son, Michel Verne. In any event, many of the topics in the article echo Verne's ideas."

Sarah, a young talented druid begins her journey to the ranks of the elementalist druids, a respected cast within the druidic society able to commune and control the elements of nature. In her trials, she will confront the elements in a different plane of existence, where the laws of nature will challenge her both mentally and physically.

This short story comes from a dusted drawer located at the desk of Daphne, a down-to earth journalist who lives in a small town in the States. Her life turns upside down when one day she decides to visit the Natural History Museum in order to cover a story for the new weekly issue. A tiny click from her camera is the trigger for the plot to begin unraveling in front of her stunned eyes. A sweet mixture of ancient greek mythology and real life as we know it creates multiplte layers of reading in this retelling of goddess Diana's myth, or else, goddess Artemis. Disclaimer: everything in the story is fictitious. Only a few elements relate to the real mythology written in formal scripts.

In an apartment complex the tenants start receiving envelopes from someone that is trying to solve their problems.

Far from the farthest, I landed into an alien land, Completely lost, desperate to survive. My resolution diluted in a day or two and all I could pray was a fast death. My pain was wondering as much as I were, It couldn't wake me up neither could break any more, I wasn't rock solid but a nutshell such hard that aspirations died and turned into ash. My forgiveness for an unknown source was irresponsive, much striken and desolate. Even the death didn't approach and life couldn't risk another game. Probably, too many fouls had crippled the intention to even stand by then. All I could do was search for a soul alike. Surprisingly, I found one. Such genuinity, optimism and reasons to prosper, made me gaze intuitively, while a blurry image sharpened to show myself a couple of years back. Yes, I had located my Infacy even in the fast paced rat race. While I so prone to run another mile for materialism, I forgot to exchange a glance with my long lost self. It was just a fraction of seconds when our eyes met and my alter-ego trembled, I don't know why!!! Perhaps, my past was undemanding, my present non-living and my future unforgiving.

Ebenezer Scrooge, a miserly, cold-hearted creditor, continues his stingy, greedy ways on Christmas Eve. He rejects a Christmas dinner invitation, and all the good tidings of the holiday, from his jolly nephew, Fred; he yells at charity workers; and he overworks his employee, Bob Cratchit. At night, Scrooge's former partner Jacob Marley, dead for seven years, visits him in the form of a ghost. Marley's spirit has been wandering since he died as punishment for being consumed with business and not with people while alive. He has come to warn Scrooge and perhaps save him from the same fate. He tells him Three Spirits will come to him over the next three nights.

Ένα ποίημα σε ελεύθερο στίχο που έγραψα πέρυσι με αφορμή λογοτεχνικό δρώμενο. Κάποιοι προβληματισμοί και έντονες σκέψεις για την πραγματικότητα που βιώνουμε στην Ελλάδα, για την αισιοδοξία που με κρατά δυνατή ψάχνοντας να βρω τους απομείναντες...

Long ago, in the Higher Realms, Alexikan, the Dark Prince of Malice, peacefully schemed to murder his dad with much glee and satisfaction. But one night, an old beggar woman came to the star palace of the Prince, and offered him a lily in return for shelter from the cold. The Prince sneered: he could clearly see that she was a Fay in disguise and mocked her for presuming that she could teach him some quaint moral lesson with her tricks. So the old woman up and punched him through dimensions, all the way to the Lower Realms. And there the Prince roams still, looking for a way home...

I could forget everything but you...