Letter from a Personal Trainer

Csongor Veres

Dear Laura,

I heard from your brother that you are lonely, that you don’t do much, and this has to change.

I am a personal trainer looking for a trainee! I can get you in shape in 3 months. Just you wait! There will be dozens of fine gentleman callers knocking on your front door day and night! Hurry, Laura, you don’t have much time. It’s only 40 dollars for the plan! It could be described as: “The long-delayed but always expected something that we live for.”

If I were you I’d do it, Laura! Currently you’re an ugly caterpillar. I’m sorry to put it so bluntly, but this is for your good. Look at what you could be. I went through a big transformation myself. Sign up, Laura, do it! Once again, it’s “The long-delayed but always expected something that we live for.” Be different, Laura! You know what they say. “I know so well what becomes of unmarried women who aren’t prepared to occupy a position. I’ve seen such pitiful cases in the South—barely tolerated spinsters living upon the grudging patronage of sister’s husband or brother’s wife!—stuck away in some little mousetrap of a room—encouraged by one in-law to visit another—little birdlike women without any nest—eating the crust of humility all their life!” Do you really want to be like this? I’m sure you will think about this again again and again for days on end, so just stand up for yourself and apply. It’s not hard: just 5 training sessions a week. It is nothing; believe in yourself, you can do it! First you just have to mail us 40 dollars, like I stated earlier. And just like that—poof—the next week you’ll be in my gymnasium training very hard. And a side note. Last week a bird told me that there were writing machines on the way, set to arrive next Tuesday for your brother’s writing endeavors. He can be happy too! Like I said, if I were you I’d hop on this plan and just train really hard.

I must bring this letter to an end because my pet fish Larry is drowning, so I’ll see you next week


John Smith

Letter to Laura

Léda Karmazin

Dear Laura!

It’s been a long time since we met, and so much has happened and I have so many exciting things to tell you. You won’t believe it, one year I went on a trip to Kylemore Abbey; the beautiful Gothic nunnery and the fantastic garden completely enchanted me, but what really enchanted me was the  glass figurines made by nuns. Of course I had to buy one. I needed one, and what I chose, what, you’d probably laugh at me now, but I bought a big fat pig figure with a short tail. As I was lying  on the bed during the day, I looked over the pig’s body, everything was a dazzling rainbow color. If I just held it and the sunlight shone through it, the room came to life and when I turned the figure, more and more shades of color played on the wall. I took great care of my lucky pig. I thought of how happy you would be if you saw this magical glass figure, but one day there was a hole in my pocket and it bounced along those rickety iron steps. When I picked it up, there was no pig’s tail nor a pig’s nose, it was just a glass ball. Of course, you would now say that a glass ball can also be beautiful. When I picked up the glass ball, I looked through it, and I see that you are selling all kinds of goods in a small shop, but in a special corner there are only glass figurines, not fourteen but at least a hundred, and you are not alone behind the counter, but a handsome, healthy-faced man also helps you and speaks well with customers, because it is already the age where rhetoric is important. A huge shelf is full of books; of course half of them are the works of Tennessee Williams. It is so magical; when the glass figure is in front of my eyes, then everything is wonderful, but if I put the glass ball away, then everything is gray . It’s impossible for us to meet, Laura, but that one time was enough for me to understand that humans and their feelings are fragile, like a glass figure, but a human’s  thoughts have great power. I will think of you with great love.

Your best friend, Léda

Letter to Tom

Gergely Kiss

Dear Tom,

I heard that you left your family behind and started a new life.

It might sound annoying, but I think that was a terrible mistake. Think, Tom, think! How are they going to make any money? You know that your sister “had to drop out, because it gave her indigestion,” and your mother is in her fifties. How are they going to live through this year without someone like you, who were the main breadwinner in the house?

I understand that you and your mom had a troublesome relationship, I know she called you lazy and a dreamer, while you were the one making money, but calling her an “ugly babbling old witch” might have been a little too much, considering how upset she was after that.

But now, let’s talk about you! How are you, what are you working on now? Have you found yourself someone, like a wife?

Well, if you have, I wish you a very great and happy marriage!

Also I’m looking for a door key. I think I gave it to you before you left the city; could you check, maybe? We really need it, Mum can’t get in the house until Dad or I arrive home.

Well, I wish you the best!

Take care, Gary

Letter from Tom to Laura

Márk Kovács

My dear sister,

Laura, I’m writing to let you know I’m fine, don’t worry and don’t cry for me. Please tell mom I didn’t want to disappoint her.

Well, I left Saint Louis. “I’m a member of the Union of Merchant Seamen.” I travel a lot, I go from city to city. I live for my dreams. Now you must be saying: Tom is like our father, he left us too. Laura, you should know, I could no longer live here in this confinement, with our mother’s illusions. Our mother’s constant concern, her eternal will and her particular world about life. I didn’t have to say things. It seemed unimportant to our mother what I was doing, what I wanted to do. I could no longer live detached from the world of reality.  That night when Jim came over for dinner, I shared my plans with him. I wanted to start a new life. I didn’t want to give up on my dreams, life is so short. I was planning for a change. I wasn’t patient, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted adventures. I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t want to work in the warehouse anymore for sixty-five dollars a month.

Laura, are you happy? What does life mean to you? You just sit at home in your own world. You have no friends, no goals, no desires and no dreams, you only have confinement, fear, and the glass menagerie.

My sister, I think I’m like our father. He was called by distance, and I was called by adventures. I liked going to the cinema in the evenings. I sat in the cinema and saw the real world around us on the movie screen: ocean, desert, mountains, people, cultures, countries, adventures. I couldn’t sit in the dark room and just watch and listen. I had to go live the adventures. Laura, I finally feel alive. I am no longer a young man from the warehouse. I walk my way, I make my dreams come true. “I traveled around a great deal. The cities swept about me like dead leaves. Leaves that were brightly colored but torn away from the branches. I would have stopped, but I was pursued by something. It always came upon me unawares, taking me altogether by surprise.”

“Oh Laura, Laura, I tried to leave you behind me, but I am more faithful than I intended to be. Blow out your candles, Laura.”

I want to leave the past behind me.


Your brother, Tom

Letter from Jim to Laura

Nóra Molnár

Dear Laura!

You are probably wondering why I am writing to you. Well, I think that our relationship can’t end just like this. And I owe you a thank-you.

First, I wanted to thank you for the conversation that we had. No one has listened to my problems in a long time. It felt good to tell you my thoughts, while you were really listening to me. Sometimes I feel like no one cares about me, but you did care.

I am very sorry we did not talk that much in school, because I think that we could have been good friends. I could have helped you find friends. But that’s the past and we can’t change it. In the future we can meet sometimes, but only if my wife doesn’t mind it. I know that it might sound weird that I have to ask for permission from my wife to meet a girl, but I don’t want to lose her.

Maybe we will never talk to each other or maybe we will, who knows? But I will always have that little unicorn, which is an ordinary horse by now, and whenever I look at it, I will remember you.

I hope you find a man who loves you so much and makes you believe that youare  worth so much and have a great life, which you deserve.

I am sorry that Tom left you, but I believe in you and in your mother, Amanda, and I think that you two will be fine, because you are strong women.

And last, but not least, a piece of advice; stop underestimating yourself. I know that I already mentioned it to you in our last conversation, but it is important, because you are a smart and beautiful young lady who could do anything if she put herself into it. So, start believing in yourself.

Thank you for everything, Blue Roses! Have good luck for the rest of your life!

Yours faithfully,


Brian West

Hanna Abigél Algay

My name is Brian West, I´m from Los Angeles, and I’m turning 26 this year. Currently I’m attending University.

Last year, in May, I met my girlfriend Juliette at a Starbucks café when I stopped by for a quick study session. She was sitting at the table next to me, and in my study break I caught her glancing at me. I remember wondering how someone could be this beautiful and how such a pretty soul could look at someone like me. After completing my task, I packed up my things and left, and the next day I returned at the same time, hoping that she would be there. My hopes were realized, and after a week of talking, we finally started dating and now have been officially together for almost a year now.

I haven’t written in my journal for a long time. Today is my 32nd birthday, and my dear Juliette is currently six months pregnant with our twin boys, and we are looking forward to being parents. I want to propose to her after she gives birth, and I already planned everything.

Last week we moved, and while moving, I found this little journal in one of the boxes. It’s so good to read back on how I felt and what I experienced in those days. Right now I´m 45 years old and am a proud dad of two very playful boys. We love them so much, my beautiful wife and I.

I’m at the hospital; at the moment I´m 68 years old. I have always been frightened of being as ill as I am now.  I’m writing in this little book to try to calm myself down, but it’s not working. I don´t want my story to end here. I feel like I still have my whole life ahead of me, but I don´t. As I’m writing this, I feel an unbearable pain in my chest and my left arm. That’s the way I will die.

As these thoughts enter my mind I wake up in another hospital bed. I look at my hands, and they don’t have their usual wrinkles or that scar I got from cooking with my wife at that old barbecue. They look young, and so does my mother, who is cheering beside my bed.

They tell me that I, Brian West, am 15 years old and just woke up after two years of being in a coma.

An Unexpected Return

Sára Forgács

My name is Natalie Collins and I am here to share the most shocking day of my life. I am a 22-year-old girl working in a café as a college student who’s pretending to have a normal, uneventful life, but with this surprising arrival, everything turned out differently.

It started on the 20th of February. I woke up and quickly got dressed because I was already late for class. When I was running out of my apartment a letter stuck to the sole of my shoe, which I only noticed the moment I sat in the taxi. I honestly thought it would be a lucky day after I got a ride as soon as I left the building on such a busy day in New York city. The thought of reading the letter didn’t really excite me, so I put it away.

It was about two in the afternoon when I arrived at work, where I bumped into my friend Cassie, who asked why I was late from school. I only said that I had got home a few minutes before midnight the previous day, although the real reason I was away stayed secret.  After she left, a man pushed me, and I hit my head on the ground. I thought it was an accident, but he just stood over me and said I should read the letter, then disappeared. I ran up to my bag and opened the letter. It said: ˝I’m back to finish what we started!˝

I was horrified; the worst was that I knew who wrote it. I searched for my mother in the evening, but the previous day I had been told I would lose everything if I turned her in, so I was just standing speechless waiting for her to talk instead. I found the courage after ten minutes and told about my day. She wasn’t even surprised, which showed that she obviously knew about him. I was furious about the fact that they were planning to break the law again. I couldn’t believe how she could still be so madly in love with a thief, thus I lied so I could get away and immediately went to the police station and reported them for a robbery.

I was lying on the bed, trying to sleep, when I heard a voice calling me. My pulse was so high and I was so dizzy from the painkiller for my head that I didn’t move. The man from the café stepped into my room. He said I would get what I deserved, then punched me in the face, and the last thing I remembered was sitting in a cell with my mother for robbery.  It was my dad.

My Dream

Zaránd Lánczi

I had always dreamed of owning a vintage car. My obsession with classic cars had been inspired by my grandfather, who used to tell me stories about his 1969 Dodge Charger. When I found a dusty, forgotten garage at the end of an empty country road, I knew my dream was about to come true.

The garage was open, and there wasn’t anything around it. But inside the garage was a beautiful old Chevrolet El Camino. I took it home and spent months restoring it to make it look like new. It was a good activity, and I spent hours and days working on this project.

Finally, the day came when I finished the car. The carbureted 6.5l V8 engine sounded so good, it was elegant and savage at the same time.

The next week something unexpected happened. A local car enthusiast club organized a vintage car show in the nearby town, and as I turned the corner, the entire town was about to watch the car meet, and I was so proud. The crowd cheered as I entered the show, and I got an award, a trophy for the best restoration. My dream had come true, and I had found a new community of car enthusiasts.

As I was walking through the car show, staring at other classic beauties, a gentleman came up to me. He was the owner of a classic car restoration shop and offered me a job as a restoration specialist. I accepted the offer with a big smile on my face, and my hobby quickly turned into a full-time career.

From that day forward, I spent my days restoring and tuning classic cars, just as I had always dreamed.

The Story of a Bird

Donát Balogh

Once upon a time there was a young and happy bird who lived with his family. He loved flying. The first time he tried to fly he was scared, but time passed and he learned how to fly. He felt free.

One day the bird was flying when a big storm came, so he hid in someone’s backyard. The bird was exhausted and scared, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep. He woke up. He didn’t know where he was. He looked around. He was in a house in a cage. He must have been captured while he was sleeping. The cage was so small that he couldn’t even fly. He was really sad. Months, years passed.

The bird grew sadder and sadder. He missed his family, but most of all flying. The dad of the family felt sorry for the bird and decided to let him out. As he opened the door, the bird opened his wings and flew out the window.

Story of My Life

Sándor Szakács

It was Christmas Eve. I’d just gotten home from work. People find it strange that I’m working even on holidays. They are always asking the same questions: “Don’t you want to spend time with your family?”; “Don’t you have anything to do other than work?” It seems as if they don’t understand what I’m striving to accomplish.

I sat down on the sofa and opened my emails. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for two: a letter from my superior and a letter from my dad. I stopped for a moment and then opened the letter from my superior. At first I didn’t think anything of it, as most of the time he sends general stuff that doesn’t have anything to do with me. However, as soon as I started reading it, I knew this was something else. It was a job offer, a promotion of some kind in South America. I couldn’t believe it. I’ve been wanting to make an impact for so long, and I finally have a chance to do so as a journalist.

I felt like my prayers finally found an ear. I’ve given up everything just to open the eyes of the people and help them see what our world has come to.

I was ready to pack my things, then I remembered there was still a letter to read. As I mentioned earlier, I gave up many things for my career, and one of the many was my family. It’s not that I don’t love them, I do. I just simply had my eyes on nothing but my goal. I sacrificed everything that could have served as a distraction: I moved quite far away from home; even so I managed to visit them 4 or 5 times a year, which wouldn’t be possible with this new job opportunity.

In short, my dad told me about his illness and the uncertainty surrounding it.He wanted me to spend more time with him as long as I could.

After I read it, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a while: doubt. Doubting whether it really was the best decision for me just to leave for several years, accomplishing my dream, but risking never to see my father again.

I was thinking about it the whole night and couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk, hoping to get an answer from the fresh air.

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