The end

- ``I demand answers, so start spilling!'' - Her large earthy eyes beamed at me feelings I couldn't stand.

My throat shut in a knot, and I decided I had to tell her, but how and what. I decided to keep to my strategy! I will tell her the truth, the partial truth and nothing but the truth.- ``Well, the truth is this is not so much a fraternity, but the descents of Tacyturno. And it was important today that we got the president here, because there was a corrupted conspiracy being build on this same grounds and if we didn't expose the traitor lying behind you on the floor we could get ourselves severe problems. I wanted to instigate a rebellion against democracy. It might have resulted in closing the school, arresting Innocent people or even casualties. But we convinced'' - My heart stopped and my voice strained. No we didn't! - ``We cordially invited the president to our school so he could witness the real problem and help solve it before it became severe enough.''

Akita got so enthusiastic he robbed the words from my mouth.- ``Ya, and the people you saw coming were just people convinced by the traitor's words, that we should create a revolution and these are our war robes... it's very theatrical, but it comes from old traditions... from Tacyturno's time!'' - He smiled proud at me, but subtle enough that Sonya in her trance state didn't understand.

Now that Sonya was less apprehensive I could only picture my mother, when I arrived home, throwing a big hug from the other end of the room, where she bite her nails to nonexistence. - ``How are you? oh, dear you look awful! You look like you were regurgitated by a pack of wolves.'' - I would smile politely and wait for the thunder to be completely extinct. - ``You are never leaving this house again, even if I have to nail you to your bedroom wall'' - Tears rolling down her face, would make it harder to play with the situation.

- ``Sorry! I have classes next month, so... ''

My father closing the door behind me would nudge just a little more of her nerves to the border.- ``Still have four more years to go through if you are a good student! told you it would be the time of your life, don't you feel alive?''

``Overthinking'' - by Chris Yellow

Have been overwhelmed with decisions all my life:

Thinking the wrong answer in a test

could make me miss by a hair the grade

for courses that I valued to have the chance.

Ending up in a degree I could not embrace

with soulless teachers questioning again

on maters that intensely forgo my taste.

Culminating in a career bursting to emerge

in a economic drought without singularity to trust

for lack of interest in a forced paved path.

Thinking the wrong word would alienate

the eager boy that could have been a good date,

maybe even the perfect gene pool wrapped in grace.

Ending up with a conventional tolerant mate

that mind not or notice my awkward state

just enjoy the mild beauty of my face.

Culminating in a regular sensible marriage

and fair unimaginative children who behave

dulling my longing for spontaneity or adventure.

Thinking the wrong phrasing in my professional cv

would discourage a boss that is nurturing,

from picking me from a pile of prospect employee.

Ending up in the unflattering job that dismisses

all my elaborate efforts to somehow innovate,

for lack of color on my unimpressive experience.

Culminating in a reasonable regular office

in a routine that continuously dulls my brain

for being unappreciated and under payed.

Now, just about too late, I realize a truth:

One does never know when hunger,

war or flood are about to ruin

all those carefully analyzed solutions

based on such fragile predictions.

For chaotic is the random development

of the nondeterministic fate.

Delicate is the balance that made us

and saw us to our current state.

Any change in the number of kisses

and we would have been a sister,

a brother or solely another,

in other words not be at all.

By the mere flapping of a butterfly's wings

life would be too different to consider.

One can only therefore chose

the best that allows one's conscience

what little that can influence one's chance

should only allow a peaceful sleep

Ultimately a life of good decisions

can shape up to great mentions.

That is the workings of statistics which

promise nothing in particular

just a whole lot of generic hinting.

So breath, decide and adjust as best you can,

for flighty is our time and little we can mend.

THE END