I make a game of it. To invent stories about the most normal-looking people I see, because I know for a fact that everyone has a story and even though I might never get to hear them all, they get to live it everyday, their silent tale.This one is for all the people we see each day, that we put in categories, let our predjudices get the best of us, and make them out to be someone else entirely. This one is for taking the time to realize the beautiful variety of people we can see out there, with all the possibilities of lives they could lead.This one is for the little mistery that is the...

Nachbarschaftshilfe mal anders?Ein sturer alter Mann, der sich nichts mehr sagen lassen will, schon gar nicht in einer Sprache, die er nicht versteht und nicht verstehen will.Eine junge Studentin, die weit weg von Zuhause ein Leben aufbauen muss, und nichts lieber hätte, als die Sprachbarriere ohne weiteres zu überwinden.Ein Haus, das so anonym ist, dass man niemanden sieht, niemanden hört und niemanden kennt.Sich helfen bedeutet dann nicht mehr nur, das Paket anzunehmen oder sich gelegentlich verhalten zuzunicken, sondern sich aufeinander einzulassen und zu helfen, da wo es am meisten...

A dandelion goes through many stages in its life. From spring to summer to its last days in fall. Some people hate them, pluck them away from their sight, and force them to grow where nothing else may grow. What begins all green and bland grows to be a colorful spot in the scenery. But after a while, their yellow petals vanish, and when the dandelions open themselves again, they emerge wearing a crown of their seeds. One by one, it flies off with every gust of wind until, at last, nothing is left but the stem and flower head.In a way, she found that her love had been like this. One beautiful...