Dear sir or madam,

we regret to inform you that your application for the position as a crematory operator has been rejected for the following reasons:

1) You don't have any education, which may not be the main issue, but it is certainly a problem as we don't know if you can read, communicate or any other of the basic skills besides writing.

2) According to your previous workplace, you used to send out regular ash, not the people's. You also used to forget that you were cremating a body.

3) Your reason for sending this application for the job was "Because I like to burn people" which didn't quite settle with us.

Of course, there were many more, these are only the three main reasons. We hope that you will not be discouraged by this letter.

Wishing the best,

The ''Cross In Eyes'' Crematorium

I was walking through a park when I saw a woman giving birth to a chicken on a bench. Just a moment later a tree cutter finally succeeded at his task to cut an oak down at which he had spent a week on. The oak falling hit an old grandpa, who got sqashed by it. A young man walked by just then, he saw the scene and kneeled down by the old man's body. "Fruitcake. I present you a knife, just one swipe down your throat and you're dead. No need for this crazy scenario with a tree." He said. Just then I saw a falling star about to hit Earth. I soon fled the scene, as I had no intensions of dying today.

"Let's take a walk through an ocean town"

But I fear the ocean. It makes me feel small

"Let's take a walk through an ocean town"

No, please no

"Let's take a walk through an ocean town"

Fine. But promise not to push me in the ocean

"Let's take a walk through an ocean town"

Promise? Please.

"Let's take a walk through an ocean town"

Ok. Let's go

"Let's take a walk through an ocean town"

We're here. Hey, where did you go?

"Take a walk through the ocean town"

Just me? No. Wait. Is this what being born feels like?

"Just take a walk through the ocean town"

Please, no. You can't leave me here. I'll die

"We will all die someday"

I can't breathe, please!

Please

"You're just imagining your fears"

I am?

Yeah. You're probably right.

"Just go through it. You will be fine"

You're right. Okay. I'll meet you on the other side of the town?

"Maybe"

Fine. I'm fine. I'm just imagining my fears

Hey. I'm actually fine

No, please. Help me. I won't get through.

You're not here, are you?

I'm just letting my emotions take control of me

See? I'm fine. Absolutely fine

Wait, no! The water is so close

Breathe. Breathe. You're on the shore, you're fine

"You didn't get through. You got swallowed by the ocean. I'm disappointed"

Me too

Me too.

Once

Treasured,

Tricked,

Feared,

Fearsome

Someone

Sees,

Enlightening

Nobody,

Treasures

Escaping,

Then

Tears

Falling

Falsely

I could reach you if I tried

If I summoned my strength

And stood up

If you would be lower

I could reach you

One of us has to make the move

Otherwise, my opportunities will fly out

Just like you tried

I caught you on the border

Just in time

Not to let you out

All the times I looked up to you

And thought

What a nice and shiny balloon

A good fairy dies

Without me knowing her pain

A slow and sad death

***

I’d like to begin by thanking everyone for coming to celebrate the fairy’s life.  This fairy was the only fairy I’ve ever known. Although never met.

She was the only child of a fairy and a fairy.

The world is a sadder place without this fairy in our lives. But the fairy touched each of us and left us with memories we will cherish forever. Thank you.

Spoons full of pigment, honey and gum arabic. Mixing it, searching for the play of light and colour. The piglet pink, mint green, summer morning sky blue, light violet. Mixing deep feelings with air and lightness, getting the shade that most people like. Maybe just another spoon full of pigment. Just a bit afraid to ruin the feeling. Slowly and reluctantly then fast and sharp the little dust flies into the mix.

Mixing it, little bubbles of pigment popping and joining the run. The glass muller sticking into the paint more and more until unable to lift himself anymore. In need of force, power to be free again. Slowly the beautiful pastel colour turns into a dark shady shade. One look and everyone can understand that this colour won't paint flowers and butterflies rather than deep corners, pain and sorrow.

It takes a minute to blend the pigments into watercolours. But when the colour reveals its real shade on paper, it surprises everyone. At first, it looks like the paint itself, but then it's this soft pastel tone, not at all like a violent, teeth-gritting tiger. A flower in this shade got coloured, but as the paint dried off, a tear drained from one of the petals. How could such beauty cry? It had everything...