Folyosó Spring 2025 - Page 2

Léda Karmazin

---

It all happened last summer…

“School just ended, I can finally do whatever I want,” I thought to myself. I can hang out with friends all day, every day. I can tan until my skin is golden brown. I will max out this summer with my friends, and it will be unforgettable.

Soon after, I got a phone call.

It was from my mom. “Léda, you must go to work this summer because we can’t pay for all your needs.”

I put the phone down, raging that she had just ruined my summer. But she was right, I needed to work. I had never actually had a job before, and besides, I needed cute clothes for summer.

One of my grandma’s friends runs a camp for kids who want to learn English. She called him, and he said I could work there as a helper. I could start next week.

I didn’t want to go at all… I had worked so hard all year for good grades for what? To spend my summer dealing with annoying little kids?

Anyway… the next week came around. I had to be at the Reptár (airplane museum) at eight in the morning. Eight in the morning… Are you serious? Okay, whatever…

When I entered the Reptár, there was a guy. And no, it wasn’t my grandma’s friend. It was a guy around twenty years old with long brown hair. Longer than mine. His eyes were dark brown. I had never liked brown eyes before. But his? His eyes reminded me of a warm autumn day.

He was also really tall, like really, really tall. And one thing to know about me is that I’m tall too, and I’ve always been scared that I wouldn’t be able to wear heels when I got a boyfriend.

His mesmerizing appearance completely distracted me from the fact that there were, like, forty kids around me, all asking my name, my favourite colour, and my favourite animal.

I was playing with the kids under the warm sun, but the only thing on my mind was him. I needed to get to know him, but I was way too scared to talk to him.

Turns out, he was working there as a helper too. His dad was the one who ran the camp. That day, his dad sent us outside to play with the kids while the other half stayed inside to study English with him.

When we got outside, I was like, “Why don’t we play arm wrestling?” Every kid wanted to go against me, and I won against all of them. They weren’t too happy about that…

Annoyed that I had beat them all, the kids told me to go up against the mysterious guy whose name, apparently, was Tamás.

He held out his hand. I placed mine in his, and I felt it.

A spark.

It was like an electric shock running through my whole body, something I had never felt before.

I lost the game, but I didn’t care.

All I could think about was that spark. What was it?

Every day while I was working there, I made sure to dress up in cute clothes. I did my makeup neatly, but never overdid it, because I wanted him to like me for who I was. I put on my most expensive perfume, and by the end of the summer, it had completely run out. That scent still takes me back to last summer.

At camp, I only had small chats with him. (I wished they would last for centuries.) His voice was deep, and every time he spoke, it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

He was twenty-one years old. For some strange reason, that felt like a lot, even though I was seventeen. I tried to act mature in front of him, hoping it would make him like me, but the truth is, when I don’t act like myself, I feel like I can’t breathe. I still act like a twelve-year-old girl full of dreams and ambition.

One day, I was sitting with his dad. He told me that his son was at university and loved it but sometimes felt lonely.

Then his dad asked me if I could set him up with a girl.

I felt a mix of rage and jealousy rush through my veins.

I wanted to scream, “I’M RIGHT HERE!”

But instead, I just smiled and said, “My brother is the same age as him… maybe he could set him up with someone.”

Every day after camp, I went home thinking about how I could seem more mature, because he was twenty-one, and I was only seventeen, acting like a clueless little kid.

Then I made a decision.

I was going to act like myself.

Even if I seemed crazy, childish, or foolish I wanted him to like me for me.

And honestly? Acting like myself made everything so much easier. I feel like even when I’m seventy years old, I’ll still be the same. I’ll always be like this…

The small chats continued. I kept stealing glances at him, trying not to smile whenever I caught myself staring for too long.

Then, the last day of camp came around.

He wasn’t there.

Only his dad was.

I was so upset, but as I sat on a bench with his dad, I kept replaying every moment I had with him in my head.

For a moment, it was quiet. Then his dad spoke.

“My son likes you.”

That shock hit me again.

What was this?

All I could do was act surprised even though, on the inside, there were unicorns jumping around in my stomach.

His dad told me that he wanted to ask me out on a date but was too scared. He thought he was way too old for me, that I probably wanted a guy my own age.

And now… what do I do?

I don’t have him on social media.

I’ll probably never see him again.

He doesn’t even study in this city.

When am I going to see him next?

The camp ended.

School started.

He was gone.

I was done.

Everything went dark.

There wasn’t a single day when I didn’t think about him, about those electric shocks I felt whenever he was near.

Then my birthday came around.

It was February. I was at home with my friends when I saw it.

He added me.

A rainfall started. Happy tears appeared.

My friends had no idea what was wrong with me.

They were already sick of hearing his name, but not this time.

Then he texted me.

He wished me a happy birthday and asked how I had been doing.

And in that moment, I knew. That boy who reminds me of a Smiths song was sent from heaven to me.

I know how willy that sounds. I’m only eighteen. But some things… you just feel. You won’t understand it until you experience it yourself.

Ever since that message, we’ve been opening each other’s texts in a flash.

And that’s my story.

But I have to wrap it up now because

I have a date to go on.

Bye, everyone, and see you later, Tamás!

Fanni Farkas

---

The man was walking home after a long day of work. When he got home his wife and his daughter hugged him. They started asking about his day; he didn’t say much, which was weird, because he was usually a very talkative guy. The family ate dinner together, and then the parents read a story to their daughter, Tiffany. After they put Tiffany to sleep they went to their room, and as they were lying in bed, the father let out a big sigh.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been very quiet ever since you came home,” said Sarah.

“I have to tell you something. I got bad news today at work. My boss told me that I have to go away for six months to Morocco. I don’t know what I have to do yet, but I will be leaving you and Tiffany behind.”

“Oh no. I…uhm… is there  any chance that you could stay?” said Sarah, trying to hold back her tears.

“No, I’m sorry, darling.”

The next day Marlo had a day off because it was Saturday, but unfortunately Sarah had to go to work, so she told his husband to take care of Tiffany while she was away. Tiffany had just woken up; she went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. She sat down at the table across from her father, who was reading the newspaper, but when he saw Tiffany he put it down.

“So Tiffie, today we are going to do whatever you want to do. What do you think about that?” Marlo leaned forward.

“Awesome! Can I have waffles for breakfast?”

“Anything for you, pumpkin,” he smiled.

After breakfast they decided to go to the field near their house. They played for a while, and when they got tired they lay down on the grass, laughing.

“Awh man, there are so many clouds covering up the sun!” said Marlo.

“But look daddy! That cloud is the shape of a dragon vomiting candy!” Tiffany pointed up to the sky

“What? Candy? Dragons don’t vomit candy.”

“Yes they do! You just never seen one before!”

“Why, you have?” the father asked, surprised.

“Yes, in my dreams,” the little girl shrugged.

“Hey, I have to say something, so daddy will be leaving soon for a few months, but don’t worry, I will always call!” said Marlo.

“Oh I’m gonna miss you,” said Tiffany sadly. She hugged her dad. “Months are a long time.”

“They are.” Marlo hugged his daughter too. “They are.”

Weeks later the time came to say goodbye to Marlo. It was an emotional goodbye. Sarah’s and Marlo’s eyes were tearing up, but Tiffany was very serious and silent the whole time. When she gave a last hug to her dad, Marlo said: “Don’t worry, Tiffie, I will be back soon. “ The little girl started crying. “Listen it could be worse than this, but thank God it isn’t!”

“I guess.” Tiffany shrugged. Marlo took a last look at the house and his family, then walked out the door with his bags.

Eszter Forvith

---

“Do you think birds like to fly?” asked little Kate of the elderly gentlemen sitting at the bus stop, who looked up in surprise at the question. He seemed to think for a moment before finally answering. “I think flying to them is like walking to us, it comes naturally, so I don’t think they particularly enjoy or despise it.” That was a far too serious answer for Kate; she did not understand it at all. “If I was a bird I would love to fly, I would be a robin because I’m small and my mum says I sing well,” she said with great conviction. A moment later she added. “What kind of bird would you be?” To that the man looked around rather annoyed, having to look up from his newspaper a second time. “Where are your parents?” he asked back instead. “Around,” said Kate, and before the man could say anything again, she asked another question. “What’s your name? My name is Kate but you can call me Katie if you want to.” “Simon,” said the man and looked around a second time but to no avail. He glanced at the girl who still had no intention of leaving and then sighed; he did not want to deal with this right now. He never liked children, it was a great enough punishment raising his own and now he has to deal with someone else’s as well, it was truly a God-sent punishment.

“Come, let’s find your mom,” he said finally, standing up from the bench. “No need, I know where she is,” said Kate with ease. Now his patience was really running out, but he took a deep breath. “Do you think birds like to sing?” asked Kate while tearing apart a leaf she just picked up from the ground. “And why do they only sing when it’s warm? If I was a bird I would sing when it’s cold too because then I would not be so sad. I’m always sad when it’s cold.” “You really like birds huh?” asked Simon in mild amusement as he took the girl’s hand. “Can you tell me where your mom is?” To that Kate looked at the ground, then at the mostly torn-up leaf, and at last she pointed in a direction. As they began to walk, Kate began talking again. “I often dream that I’m a bird and I can fly. Do you think it means that I’m actually a bird and I just don’t know how to transform?” “Probably not” “Why do you think my parents won’t buy me a bird?” “Because you’re too young to responsibly take care of an animal and it would only mean another problem for your parents.” Kate didn’t understand how such a small thing could mean trouble to anyone, but didn’t talk again until she finally pointed out a woman dressed in a light purple spring coat. “That’s mum,” she said. “Great.” Simon breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that he no longer had to hear her talk. “Go on then, I’ll be leaving.” With that he turned around and was ready to go when he felt a slight tug on his coat. “This is yours,” said the girl while holding out a little white flower to the man. “Thank you!” Simon took the flower and watched the girl run to her mum who, judging by how she was talking on her phone, never even took note of her daughter’s absence. “What an irresponsible parent,” murmured Simon under his breath as he put the little flower in his pocket. As he was walking back to the bus stop, he spotted two pigeons jump off a tall building and letting the wind take them, while circling each other. It was almost like they were dancing in the air. Maybe birds did like to fly.

Attila Nagy

---

This story dates back five years, to a sunny day in the summer with no school and nothing to worry about except for what you are doing with your friends in the evening. With our larger friend group we decided to go on a party-like tour to the weekend house of one of our friends. The tour consisted of camping, grilling, swimming and jumping to the nearby oxbow lake called Peres. This was a great plan until the time came. My closer friends and I decided to gather at my place and then wait for the others to arrive and take us to the party. This way we had some time to chat with each other about how the rest of the day would go. Since it was far from our houses and the house hadn’t enough space to fit twenty people, we prepared tents as well as air mattresses. Our pick-up time was 8 o’clock sharp in front of my house. As time passed by, the clock hit 8:10, then 8:20. During this period we tried to call the friend who would take us to the party where he was. He didn’t pick up his phone a single time. After half an hour of waiting, another friend messaged me that they were still at the local swimming pool and wouldn’t leave it till closing. It was funny, because that night the local swim club also had a party that lasted until the next morning. Then it became clear to us that all of the other people were still there. This meant that nobody from the extended friend group was coming. At this point my father was asking me where we really wanted to go. I said that it would be cooler to join the others at the meet, but my father had another idea. Since those friends left you without even informing you, those are not real friends. The real ones will always stay alongside you, no matter the outer impact. So, he suggested that the three of should stay in our garden and grill our meal here. It was important because we were already prepared with grill foods that we thought we would eat there. One thing was still missing. The feeling of camping in nature. This feeling could easily be replaced with our tent. My father was not happy with this decision, because the grass there would go brown, but for our happiness he agreed to this. Then we spent the rest of the night having fun and at halftime, even my father joined us. He became really friendly and talkative for this night, even though most of the time he does not like to speak with others. This strange party will always be remembered and has a very important meaning. Friends who do not lose hope in you are the ones you should be thankful for; it is their opinion you should respect. For others we possibly became a bunch of weird dudes who were chilling with one of their fathers, but for me this night meant that the relationship between you and your closest friends and relatives is the thing that matters at the end of the day.

Zsombor Górán

---

A young child named Hugo lived with his father and mother. He was by no means reckless but he was always portrayed as such. They lived in a small two-story house with great views. Hugo was never allowed to open the windows upstairs. The reason for this was unknown to him. He had many ideas why this could be: maybe an airplane would fly though the house. Or maybe a bear would climb in. But this theory was quickly disproven when he realised that a bear wouldn’t fit through the window. After trying to figure out the reason for what felt like centuries even though it was just two years, he decided to open it. He moved a chair with much effort close to the window, then climbed up. He was at about the same height as the window so he could touch the top part of the frame. He grabbed the handle and slowly and carefully twisted it. The window opened slowly, but nothing happened. No airplane , no bear, not even a hurricane. After waiting a few seconds, he heard a noise. Someone was behind him. His father was standing there with a look of fear and worry.

Hugo asked: ”What is the problem ? Nothing happened.” His father firmly told him to get down from the chair and get away from the window. So Hugo did it. After he climbed down, his father closed the window and returned the chair to its place. And after that he told Hugo to never do that again because he might fall out. Hugo had thought of everything but this, since he knew how not to accidentally jump though the window after opening it. He gave a his father a confused look, but the father doubled down: “Don’t go near that window ever again, because you will fall out for sure.” Hugo didn’t even know how to respond, because in his mind this was almost impossible. Hugo tried to explain that there was no way he would fall out, but his father didn’t listen. He tried to understand why his father would worry about such unlikely things when a dinosaur attack was much more of a threat. Even if there was a 1/100 chance that he would fall, he would still have a 99% chance of not falling.

But in reality his father was worried because he knew his son. He knew how irresponsible and sometimes stupid he could be. He was not willing to risk his son dying because he slipped and fell forwards. He couldn’t imagine that Hugo would be able to grab onto anything in time, because he was so little. The only logical solution he saw was to not allow Hugo anywhere near that window. Even if there was a 1/10000 chance he might fall, that was still too much. An outside person might think that Hugo was taking a risk that he ignored but that his father overreacted to this small risk.

Viktória Botka

---

A child, aged around eight or nine, was sitting on a bench waiting for a bus. He was not alone; beside him, his father was sitting, reading the daily paper. There was a silence: the kid ate a ham sandwich while his father frowned and shifted his eyes from word to word on the sheet of paper . The silence was broken when the boy asked his father:

“Why do you always read these grey ugly papers? They look so boring, there are only words, all my story books have drawings on every page. Your paper only has five drawings.”

The father set the papers aside; clearly, he was a bit annoyed that his reading had been interrupted.

“Jason, dear. This is the newspaper, it tells the news, things that are happening, they are real. Many things happen, near us, and far away. I’m currently reading about the forest fires in Australia. Animals cannot survive, people are dying, it is all written in this paper I’m holding.”

He went on to continue his reading, but Jason wanted to continue the conversation.

“Why do you read about people dying? Doesn’t it make you sad? Why don’t you read happy stories? I can tell you a story about Mowgli, a boy who lives in a jungle, or about Franklin the turtle. What do you want to hear?” H e asked a gazillion questions.

“Well, I read the newspaper because it tells me the truth, or most of them do. It tells people information that they should know, whether it makes them happy or sad. I want to keep updated with what’s going around me, to make me cautious about what people are up to. I want to be aware of what people less fortunate than us are going through, like the starving and thirsty children in Africa, we are lucky that we have clean water and –“

Jason cut him off mid sentence. “Why can’t we give them food? We have unlimited water from our tap, mummy can make them the most yummiest and super-duper deliciousest dinner ever in the whole entire world and universe!”

His father chuckled . Another sudden topic change. He put his papers in his suitcase. He loved his son so much.

“Boy, I agree with you, mummy’s cooking is fire. What you need to understand that there are a lot of starving people, millions, hundreds of them, we don’t need to go to Africa to help them. There are thousands in this city, too. We cannot help them all, we can still try our best to make their lives better though, donate to charities and the homeless shelter, treat them with kindness and love. We also have to be thankful and grateful for what we have, food, money, love, which we can also share with those in need of them .”

The boy couldn’t keep up with the speech. He scratched his head, baffled at the weird way his father’s thinking worked .

“I don’t understand, pops.”

“What I mean is that there are less lucky people out there, not just in Africa. Some of them are very poor, while some could live through the help of others. Our duty is to help them as much as we can, by giving them money, food, but even an act of love can make their day a little better. A hug, or even a smile.”

“Wow, I will do everything to make people less sad, when I grow up, I will help people, and I won’t let anyone in this world be sad. I want to be like you.”

The father picked up little Jason, and put him on his shoulders

“Well you got to study a lot then, there’s our bus, let’s take you to school, where you’ll work hard and make popsy and mummy proud.”

Jason laughed and tickled his father’s neck.

“Since when did you change your name to popsy? HAHAHAHAHAHAHHH!!”

They got on the bus, and left to continue their day.

Zalán Kaposvári

---

Once upon a time, there was a mysterious forest. A forest of huge vastness, such that neither human eyes, nor eagle’s sight, nor even a flying soul could see it as a whole. N     ot only was it extended to infinite width, but also to impenetrable density both in the undergrowth and the upper layer, that is, the trees. A biological organism would consider it worse than a jungle, because searching for a route, one has no chance to find a way. The ground was not covered, but literally filled with noxious, evil and dangerous weeds  that carry harmful effects and “gifts” for careless visitors. These visitors are not usual travellers of humankind, but rather  various conscious souls, who like to take  the risks and challenges that  the mysterious place offers them. What is more peculiar  is that the place itself lives, and provides her guests’ different encounters of dangers according to their personalities.

Now  a soul, a descendant of the infinitely old forest, has brought his son. He has a purpose with this journey: he wants to see the true system of his child’s thoughts. If he finds it proper compared to his, then the youngling is ready for his task, otherwise, he must direct the little dreamer on the right track.

“We have arrived, Alo, ”  said the old soul.

“Where exactly?  We’ve been flying for about half a human lifetime through a terrain, which is repeti tive, and now, randomly halting, you tell me, that we have arrived? This is even the same place where we started from!”  said the youngling in a burst of fury.

“Perfectly true. And how many times has the forest changed?”

“Hmm…Does it even matter?”

“Yes.” 

“Ok, then… I think 56743 times.”

“Perfectly true, ” said the old one in a brighter way.

In fact, this was the point  when the little soul had to face the task that  he would have  to perform, when his father could not   do it. While his father was meditating on this topic (about how to say it), Alo was speculating on his surroundings.

“Look, father, what is that thing in that tree? It is like a bird, but it has quite a strange appearance. It has rainbow wings, a large body covered with thick feathers, and a large, curved beak. It is so fluffy! And that flowering plant over there? And this little-“

“Enough! We did not come to look   around a place of dreams. We have an important matter to discuss, ” shouted the father angrily, still a bit anxiously.

The area of the nice dreams and feelings disappeared. Instead, it was  replaced by a place of dense, thick and gloomy air.

“Alo, I want you to accept a task of great importance. A task, which our family has been performing since the birth of this forest. I will explain it briefly. We are unique souls, who have never been granted bodies, we have always been sole souls floating and flying, and we will always be. Therefore, you have to travel to the world of humans, find a settlement, and in the gloomy light of the moon, you have to get a host. You will have to find a lonely ‘ soul’  walking in the midnight hours, and possess his body. After that, your task is simple: pretend to be the same ”healthy” person, spread lies, set the bonds of a society on fire, and watch how they destroy themselves. That is all.”

“What? No. Absolutely no. I will definitely not follow  your damn temptations!” shouted Alo.

“Listen, I know how you feel. When I was  your age, I said the same words. You just do not understand the purpose behind these acts. Let me— “

“No, father, no. And by the way, what is this creepy environment?”

“This is the Infinite Warped Forest. The conditions around you always bend to show a perfect mirror to your own feelings. I see, you are scared. Now just calm yourself, and let me tell you a little story.”

At this point, the surroundings  changed radically: the nearest trees, wearing the grey tones of death, suddenly cast off their mournful shirts, while the other trees in the distant mirrored a picture of meaningless shades, only to provide an isolated environment, perfect for storytelling.

“Once upon a time,” said the storyteller,  “there was  a wise and prideful father, who had a son of exactly the same age as you are right now. He had become exceedingly old by that moment, so he had to decide  who he would  give the noble task to, which, actually, almost filled all his life essence. This was the task that was driving him through every challenge of his time, this was the task that gave him the ultimate purpose of life. Therefore, this was the method, the ‘ ng light’  he raised his child with. So, he had no wide range of choices. Actually, he had only one: his own son. On the special day, he brought his own son to the Infinite Warped Forest, and they were flying for a very long time. At one  moment, they suddenly stopped, and the little soul was complaining, as he was exhausted. His father asked: ’Son, how many times have we passed over the same place of the forest?’  The youngling replied: ’Hmm…I think 56742 times.’ Then, the father replied: ’Perfectly true, ’  and a couple of minutes later, he started his monologue. He described the details and the aspects of the task. After this, seeing the surrounding forest deeply mirror the inner feelings of the frightened young soul, the father immediately knew  he had  to persuade his son. He said the following: ’Young Ahriman, I know you are frightened. Now relax, and let me explain its purpose to you. This task is not as evil as you might think at first. Those humans living on the upper world, have managed to increase their population to the  extent  that they are now ruling all the land possible. And not only by their number, though, but mainly by team work. Using a single language as their communication tool, they have managed to overcome every difficulty that tried to threaten them. They use it only for the good things, you might think now. I have to di sappoint you, because no. They use it mainly for its exact opposite: they ruin numerous natural places and destroy countless lives both in their race and other harmless ones, too. Our task is to counter balance this process: by using their own weapon against them, they can be easily turned against each other, thus making them destroy their own ‘ kin .’ Fire consumes fire in our world, you know.’ This is the purpose that makes our task so essential, Alo.”

“Wait, I know  of only one Ahriman: you!” said Alo, with  enlightened thinking.

“Perfectly true, son, ” said Ahriman, the old soul.

“Wait, you said 56742 in the story, while I said 56743 a couple of minutes ago!”

“Perfectly true, son. That indicates the number of souls performing, approving this ritual, and most importantly, willing to perform the task. And now, Alo, you are the only one  who can continue it to the infinite, just as this forest is.”

“And father, is it possible  that every time souls approve of the ritual, this warped forest expands?” asked Alo.

“You are right, my son, that is why the Infinite Warped Forest only looks infinite. We are the ones  who make it grow to the infinite.”

The trees of the forest have completely transformed into the environment of the true nature of the upper world by this moment. The last act comes now.

“Alo, do you agree to defend the nature depicted around you? Do you agree to complete the same ritual later with your offspring?” asked Ahriman.

“I am completely willing to do it, father. I absolutely agree, ” said Alo, finishing the dispute of creepy family matters.

Áron Kaposvári

---

The sun begins to set, covering the village in darkness, which forced children to stop playing and come inside. Having passed his prime, Henry has enough energy and mood only for reading. He has always enjoyed this pastime, so he has a small “library” in his room. That’s what his family called his book collection. The books are ordered by topic. He has every type of book, ranging from educational books      through stories and adventures to science fiction (although he isn’t so fond of sci-fi, being a technophobe). All of his relatives can use a smartphone except for him. Not to mention his grandson, Christopher, who is considered an expert. The little boy, though he’s just turned twelve, already has his own computer, which provides him with new entertainment opportunities for evenings, nights, midnights, and I hope I can’t continue my list. I still remember how I watched him playing a game as a spider on the wall. But let’s not get distracted because as I notice our little boy is going to have a talk with his grandfather, Henry. Come and follow me, I believe it will be an entertaining event.

“Hey, grandpa! How was your day today?” asked Christopher.

“Oh, my dear grandson!” started Henry. “Nothing special, I talked with our neighbours, solved some puzzles, listened to the radio and continued my book I am currently reading. And you? I saw the weather was pretty nice, I suppose you were playing outside.”

“Well, it’s true that it was sunny, but an important update came out in my favorite computer game and I couldn’t wait a minute longer to try it out.”

“So you didn’t even play with your friends? I saw them through the window playing a football match in the park. They aren’t beginners in this sport, I have to admit,” said Henry.

“They can’t have been my friends, as we played together inside.”

“Wait, what do you mean by inside? I didn’t see any of them here and didn’t meet you at home the whole day.”

“You don’t understand that, grandpa. We were connected virtually. We played on the computer, the game I just mentioned a couple of minutes ago.” explained Christopher.

“But—” started his grandfather, but his grandson interrupted him.

“You are a technophobe and don’t want to be open to the modern world. On Wednesday I tried to teach you how to use a smartphone but you said you just didn’t understand. You stayed in your backward, old-fashioned world with your age.”

“That wasn’t nice of you, Christopher. And anyway, I am really open to innovations, it was only you who explained it in the wrong and difficult way, and it was too fast, too. So I would appreciate it if you would try again.”

“Okay, I’m in! Let’s get started,” said Christopher cheerfully, hoping that his grandfather would finally improve. “So this is my iPhone. Got it? Great. Then I touch its screen and it will show the time with this wonderful background. And when I—” he continued with increasing enthusiasm, as it gave him the feeling of knowing everything.

Maybe this is the topic he knows best. For school lessons, he never learns anything, and that’s why this opportunity is so unusual for him. By the way, I could sympathise with both of them. On the one hand, I agree with Christopher that the world moves on and we must adapt to it. On the other hand, I understand Henry because we get used to what we experienced in our childhood, thus later we feel alienated from revolutionary changes.

Moreover, considering computers and other electronic devices, they can be highly unhealthy for several reasons. Mainly because they hurt the eyes and sitting there for hours isn’t good for the back. They      also cause addiction, which forces the child to stay there, play there, watch the monitor all day, and thus ruin his own health. Oh, but unfortunately, I forgot that the ”teaching” didn’t stop around us, so we had better return to the action.

“You understand now, don’t you?” asked Christopher.

“This way was much better, Christopher, thank you. Therefore I will forgive what you said about me, and won’t tell it to your parents.”

“Such a relief! Thank you very much! But I must hurry as my series is starting soon,     ” he said.

“Well then, good night!” said Henry.

“Goodnight, grandpa!” waved Christopher before he left.

Sadly, it looks like we missed the main part. Not a problem! Now I will join Christopher, and tomorrow I’ll tell you everything. Bye for now!

Zselyke Czégény

---

Mist covers the forest. It lingers between the enormous trees. There is nothing around to be seen. It is like the whole world is gray, not even a single ray of sunlight reaches down there.

I am running. My eyes are closed… Or maybe they aren’t, but it makes no difference. I see nothing… No, i only see the grayness around.

I don’t know how long I have been running. Nor do I know when I started. But I know I can’t stop. If I do, I will…

I don’t feel any fatigue. At least not yet. Even if i do, I must keep pushing forward.

A branch snaps into my eyes. I yelp in pain but it feels like my voice is being suffocated by the mist around. Everything is dead silent. I reach up to my eye. And I don’t see my hand.

I keep running, never slowing down. I must carry on. Maybe at last I will get out of this place. Maybe I will get to see the other colors as well. I am getting sick of grey. Living like this is maddening.

The fog is getting thicker. I run. No sound can be heard. I still run. I can’t afford to stop.

My breathing becomes ragged as I struggle to keep my pace. My foot stumbles on a protruding root. I reach out, trying to catch myself… and can’t see the abyss right in front of me.               

The dense fog hides everything from the watchful eyes, forever silently. Nobody can hear the cries of the lost soul.

---

After reading an excerpt from Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons in class, students wrote the following miniature pieces (within the space of ten to fifteen minutes).

Deep Glass

Zalán Kaposvári

Deep deep, very deep will you look at it. It is a little, little more than blue, since it is not iron. Through the glass, through the glass, you will taste it and as a canopy, it starts to get higher, higher. Higher to the sky, to the sky, which is green. But you will feel it only in the hardest one, only in the coldest one.

Departure

Viktória Botka

A curtain blocking the way, the view, the light. The light passing the way through time, overgenerations of curtains, dark and light, with lace trimmings and flower patterns. The light being heavy and the heavy becoming weightless in the tricks of time. But if time were tricks, why were tricks not time? It is the precise thought that is known not yet to be a time-tricker.

The leaves of a tree shouldn’t only be green. They should not leave the tree when they turn dark. The dark leaves and the sun shine on the leaves, but it burns them, and there they vanish. They leave. The leaves leave the leaf of the loaf, the loaf of the leaves that left. The tree loaf that shines on the Sun with its dark leaves that is leaving the leafy green trunks.

Physics Is Hard

Márk Kovács

Iron is not a food and so as orange is not an ore. It is likely you search for the other pair of socks and instead you find a piece of wood. A break is nothing without the blue sky and a cow is not a monkey. When you go fishing you are not the fish. If someone calls your dog a cheese then you are the owner of a grilled cheese.

Who Thinks Twice?

Áron Kaposvári

High up look the sky, and you will find it. It is shiny as a five-legged table. Having summits five in total, it can walk through the sea all day. No, you’re not right, it isn’t a star. Think more. An organism that can eat rocks, walk on four legs and search no more has come. A place of a very foundness you are thinking is. How could you think it was yesterday and red too. The answer star. Likely change the likely the colour, as it is already known it is invented.

Nonsense

Fanni Farkas

When you dream you eat a tea kettle, whenever anyone tries to fly. It says on the glass that it is caroling kids coming home. After doing the dishes we go out on a Tuesday, like the gum on my shoe. Santa Claus is a book written in my backyard. It is a Nonsense Christmas.

Fairies singing, sleighbells ringing, are you bored yet? I thought I should let the light in when I ate a house with three marshmallows. Seeing all the beautiful ugly crabs in my hair. So wrap it up and go back to dance.

Make an Explosion

Dominik Nemcsok

A book, a chair stairs is cat hair tomorrow drink. Bartender horrow is not the sun. Michael case the weather is singing potatoes. Tee tomato volcano is shopping riddles. Theater salty strong lead nowhere. Pen is circle the house isn’t pink. The zoo flies chair project sponge.

Multiple Meanings

Márk Gál

The flesh is not wine, when it’s white or not red or environment. The white flesh is the red milk from a grey wall which is Gertrude while she is Nonsense in a particular kind of way of kindling kind. So this makes the finders jiggle when crouch is water. This is very yes and no.

As the Sky Begins to Darken

Eszter Forvith

As the sky begins to darken the Sun is rising at the horizon. The stars are already shining in the clear blue sky and I hear the ducks singing. At the nearby pond a few hens are running in the water to cool themselves from the summer heat. A sudden snowstorm carries me back to the house and I can’t enjoy the comfortable warmth of the Moon anymore.

Flowers

Nóra Molnár

Black is not white. The difference is prepared. A color isn’t chosen. It was chosen yesterday when it was today, that showed increasing. Supposing you do not like the color, supposing you don’t want to change, supposing you like dogs. Dogs aren’t cats, and cats aren’t dogs. None of them are birds living in the water.

Wisdom of Horses

Sára Timár

You need to realize the green looks away turning out when it is twisted above the style. Frustrating tossed all of the horses like it’s red or something graceful. The sense that in order is not with the body parts and chocolate fountain raising its hand like a knee. It is not real within the cafe and the TV.

Bricks

Ádám Csabai

Depleted uranium is not offensive to the native aircrafts. Suggesting that armor is really a continent. Holding it makes water wet and grass longer, meaning that the lifespan of a block of concrete is tasty just like lead. Having such unknown binoculars, showing a singularity shall be sacrificed, just like helicopters on a blood moon.

Demon Time

Léda Karamzin

Interest in stars and colours. A colour and a thought going up and down plus around and around. Maybe it can talk and also melt when the difference is extraordinary. It awakens a silence and makes mistakes along the way.

Big Dreams

Dániel Szutorisz-Pető

I don’t want to write about nonsense, so I will buy a car. It has been sixteen years since I started saving up. I want to go home.