---

Of the plenty of goods to be found on the shelves,

I picked up only four little cheap coffee bags,

You would ask me, my reader, the reason for that,

And I answer: for me and for three of my friends.

---

I have seen students cheat - each and every exam,

But I have to admit: neither papers nor phones

Help a dumb man; whether cheating, or not,

All the same - he ends up with a fail.

---

People say summer days are the best in the year;

But my viewpoint is opposite, I fear.

For who, in sound mind, loves the dust or the heat,

When compared to the winter relief?

The first thing I figured out was that everything around was changing constantly. It looked like a regular hospital corridor, yet with bending walls, lamps of many different colors that blinked like broken pedestrian lights... and the absence of exit or entrance doors.

The last of the above circumstances made me feel awkward and ask myself how I got there. A thought ran through my mind: "what if those soft walls can open?" I touched the wall - and soon regretted it.

The corridor formed what looked like an outbranch. I stepped in, and it was the moment I realized that the floor there was also unstable... I fell... Long, long falling.

At the bottom of the soft-walled pit, there was some kind of grass (luckily, it was not nettle!). Perhaps, the lighting had changed while I was falling, because now I saw everything in cold blue-green shades.

A couple of flies flew past me. Apart from the initial feeling of surprise, I think it was the first time I saw living creatures in this strange world.

I stood up carefully and looked around. The bottom area seemed to have stretched and got bigger. I noticed a ladder haging from the ceiling. Yes, an opportunity!

Of course, I was climbing it very cautiously, thinking of a plan. Firstly, I needed to know what food or drinks I could find; secondly, if there were any hostile creatures; finally, most importantly: how to get back?

I got to eat in that world only once, and had better not. It was some kind of berries in an empty hall conquered by bushery. I ate one, and it was sweet. Some minutes after, I consumed the whole bush, only to find out that there were lots of big greasy worms on the lower leaves. I did my best not to vomit.

The last room was the most peculiar. When I stepped, or rather, fell into it, I saw it had both sides ceilings. Let me explain: the floor (or the side I was standing on) was the same as the ceiling with buzzing neon office lamps attached to it.

The final seconds of my being there were pure idiocy; for I suddenly escaping gravity of the "floor" and strong pulling force of the "ceiling". I bumped my head really hard against one of the lamps... and then I woke up in my bed.

You may take my story for a dream, but I actually found small pieces of glass thrown around my room - a kind used in lamps.

Travel back in time to Weimar Germany, 1920s. You could literary use money instead of wallpapers, wrap your bakery in it, go to the water closet with it. Dead economy.

What can You do? Nothing... unless you are an ambitious young engineer or architect. In that case, you should join Ludwig van der Rohe or Walter Gropius.

It is much likely that you would have to work on pure enthusiasm some time, or even get fired. However, soon you see that those ideas of yours change the world around.

Here are some important uplifting aspects of BauHaus philosophy and attitude:

- Make your poverty your advantage. If you are poor, make your own sense of the word "luxury". Some bright examples include social housing in Dessau-Törten (1928) and another truly modernist design from a distant part of the world: an X-shaped crossed staircase at a simple, modest apartment block on Hasima Island, Japan (1930s). Those buildings look stylish with their simple and expressive lines, despite being meant for low-paid workers.

- Do not make yourself work too much; be inventive. (Look at the transformable, light-weight Bauhaus furniture and mechanisms to open upper window sections with minimum efforts.)

- Don't be ashamed to influence and inspire. People who are influential make changes in urban environment, 1920s designers thought. In fact, if you look at many buldings of our century, you will still notice the ideas of Bauhaus, a hundred years after. That is because those ideas were intended to influence. This principle concerns literature, too.

The police representative was walking past the old town cemetery, trying to rate the locals in his mind. It is certain that he did not enjoy rural people, old people specially, nor did he want them to know his pseudo-identification was a disguise.

A distant waterfall could be heard in this small settlement beneath the mountains. Perhaps it would often provoke hostile floods a hundred years ago, but now the river was almost stagnating. It was similar to this graveyard, long abandoned. The church had long ceased to be a place for public to meet.

"It has been four days since they remitted me here, and yet no clues! Who borrowed my investigating talent and never gave it back, I wonder? Is this week my bad week, as horoscopes tell?"

A dark figure revealed itself behind the corner. The detective guessed immediately that it had followed him for some time. "Now, what to you want, shadow monster ?" he said ironically, turning to the silhouette.

"I am here to prevent your life's loss..."

"Could you please be more specific?"

"You are working on that project. How long have you been with them?"

The shadow took off her black hat. She was a young woman with long brown hair resembling a horse's mane. The detective decided to take charge, reveresing their roles.

"Excuse me, miss, you already know more than you should. My duties expand far beyond that business, but who are YOU?"

"Look."

Upon that, the girl jumped up... and stayed hovering in the air, as if it should be.

"I don't consider your ability quite amusing", he answered. "Apart from that, I love oddities."

The woman's angry look grew into a glower. In the matter of seconds, she flew away.

Discourses are known to be stressful and sometimes provocative. This has earned them a strong atmosphere of conflict. However, I have another view on the subject: good dicussions bound people rather than distract them from each other.

To begin with, we basically get information by asking people around us. Then, if the answer proves to be opposed to оur previous experience, knowledge etc., we tell them what we think is right. This is the way any discussion begins.

In addition, arguments with strong opponents make a human's character strong. They help us find the most convincing proofs to our ideas. There is a poem called "Ode to my enemies" by Lina Kostenko, saying: "If I have any muscles of the soul, it is all thanks to you, my foes". Those words do not necessary refer to real enemies, but can sure be applied to any important discussion.

Finally and most importantly, a discussion with a completely different person is a chance to surf into a new world of human minds and find some unexpected truth about yourself. I know people whom I did not understand before I got to talk to them. When we discuss something, the views or beliefs that usually look weird or rediculous may become clear.

In conclusion, it is indeed essential to take parts in disputes, as they help human beings to form bonds between various thoughts, ideas and viewpoints. Discuss this work of mine, too!

On a sunny April morning, 1930, a handsome man was driving along a railroad mound, whistling. The telegaph poles lined up in a row beside him, forming a peaceful and melancholic scenery. The man wondered why his model T pickup refused to wind up well in the morning and hardly ever in the evening. Perhaps the car didn't like waking up early as much as him.

"Gush, where is the world going... Another strike at the railway. It seems someone has nothing to put on his plate today. The economy is a complete slump."

As if expressing its consent, the truck cracked and squeaked under its cargo: some twenty jars of fine condensed milk. Or, at least, they looked like condensed milk.

The man had made great profit out of it lately; unlike wine, he had no need to hide milk in a dugout and wait until it got pitch-black at night to drive this special cargo to the town.

"I'll pick a newspaper from a boy later and look who scored what. Then I'll have a battered chicken at the diner, no, something less heavy perhaps." The stones on the road shone like diamonds. What an error if one mistakes them! The driver laughed to himself.

They would not catch him, of course. If the things went wrong with the milk, he would start selling rubber balls or wooden balks instead. Whistle, whistle...

They put the GREEN fresh CLOVER there, and poured down some lemon juice,

They called that drink a LEGEND, and it was, for sure. Served with fried POTATO, we used to drink it every weekend, sitting in their cosy café, speaking over our good or bad LUCK, the girls, etc..

I always wondered how they BREW that cocktail. I bet they have to fix the plug with some kind of JIG, or hermetic glue, or other tool, to keep it inside the bottle... so powerful the sparkles of the drink become as they get to the surface.

Once I was sitting there looking at the RAINBOW outside (it was after a cold March rain); my pal Joe was resisting the temptation to PAT his girlfriend's head, while she was also looking at the shining drops of water.

Later, there came a BLESSING! For what would you call it otherwise: our other friend, Louis, joined us at the table with a glass of our well-known cocktail, shouting out loud "YOU WON'T BELIEVE ME, GUYS! I WON IT, I WON IT! I WON THAT ONE-HUNDRED-THOUSAND DOLLAR LOTTERY!"