1.Mad World

Little boy straightens his coat and walks on, his eyes on the street, doesn’t look up, like up is danger, up is a place he won’t go. He’s doomed to stay grounded, stuck on this street. He has that ‘no future look’ in his eyes, but without the punk attitude, without the arrogance youth usually provides, for he’s too young to feel invincible, but he’s safe, safe like he doesn’t exist. This is maddening, it’s a mad, mad world, it hurts, it hurts to be anybody, but it’s also liberating, he thinks, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

2.Wild World

Little boy blinks once or twice, looks up and he’s old, and he’s confident, now that he knows he’s not replaceable, not like when he was anyone else and anyone else could take his place. Little boy thinks he found love, he found his tribe, when he caresses her hair, and she holds his hand like he’s the only one, this little break of togetherness he thinks it’ll last forever, only it won’t, only she’ll leave next day, he’ll say, it’s a wild world baby, but she won’t mind, she’ll leave for good and the little boy will be little again, and life will be a lonely place.

As long as he doesn’t talk about it, it may have not happened. It has happened but also it hasn’t. Right there in the middle is the place to be, the safe place he longs for, like in an REM song, even in their happy songs there’s an irony, like yeah, we call this happy, but is it really? Is it ever?

3.Wonderful World

Little boy goes back, back to when he felt hopeless, nobody, anybody, but still magic could save him. He breathes in, sucks the air in, sucks the wonders, the magic, he’s light, empty, free, he thinks, this is a mad, wild, but oh, how wonderful, oh, how wonderful world. He doesn’t think about how fast time flies, decides to stay hopeful, replace all losses, he has all the time in the world, but he knows, he knows that’s not the whole truth, he knows life will pass soon, it’ll pass in the blink of an eye (or two), and if he doesn’t hurry, this wonderful world will still be wonderful, wild, magical, but without him.

Mileva Anastasiadou is a neurologist, from Athens, Greece and the author of "We Fade With Time" by Alien Buddha Press. A Pushcart, Best of the Net, Best Microfiction and Best Small Fictions nominated writer, her work can be found in many journals, such as Chestnut Review, New World Writing, HAD, Lost Balloon and others.