The Philosopher's Stone of Palestine E-Book

Tom Birkbach

• Herausgeber: neobooks
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Deutsch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 515

Beschreibung

Seven young hackers from all parts of the world experience friendship and love in the midst of the cruelty and confusion of the existing politics, economy and secret services and, together, try to prevent the nuclear catastrophe with the help of artificial intelligence and with the involvement of well-known thought leaders and activists of our time.

Leseprobe

Tom Birkbach

The Philosopher's Stone of Palestine

Dieses ebook wurde erstellt bei

Inhaltsverzeichnis

Titel

The turn of the millennium

The birth

The Putin era

The one bot

In the synagogue

Obama's inauguration

Arzu and her father

Nelson Obatzki

Yuan's day at school

Arzu finds a black stone

The holiday

Coffee for a better future for people and nature

Vladimir's secret

Tom's dream

Holidays in the Crimea

Arzu in Hamburg

The destruction of the One World Trade Tower

Arzus arrested

Tom and Arzu

Leonard Cohen

Tom and the Occupy movement

Knowledge and wisdom

Venus Messiani on the Temple Mount

Hospice visit

At the Holocaust memorial

Berlin Wall

In the Reichstag

The street battle

At the Humboldt Forum

In a coffee shop in Berlin

Tom Birkbach and Snowden

Pasha Chekhonova

Pasha switches to organic

The trainee

AI as a liberal world government

Tom starts at KI

Vladimir Kaspersky

Evangelicals

Operation Frostadler

Donald Trump

Vladimir and Tom

Yuan Hi

Yuan at university

The capital potential of nations

The excursion

Liberal to conservative

The stelae in the garden

The conservative era

Venus at the grave

Party in the Caribbean

Fridays For Future

The mysterious virus

Nelson Obatzki's loss

Venus in lockdown

The poison attack

Lateral thinkers and yellow waistcoats

The storming of the Capitol

The Russian-Ukrainian war

At the front

Fear for Zaporizhia

The GAU in Golfech

The theodicy binary

Vladimir and Long Covid

Venus Messiani as an influencer

Venus in Rome

Gorbachev's interview

Pasha and Yuan

Love in times of corona

From the conservative era to the era of the rich

Media

Nord Stream

Dictatorship of the rich

The escape

The ZPS

The end of the pandemic

Kamala Harris

Navalny

From the rich to Putin

Vladimir and Tom

Change to the dictatorship of Russia

Juri's homecoming

Putin's world domination

The downfall

Tom and Yuan

Socialism

Yuan and Nelson

Radical transition from socialism to Sharia

Meet Tom and Arzu

Venus and Arzu

Shaking off Sharia rule

War

The nuclear war

The digital dinner

The attack

The Gaza war

Peace plan

The human chain

Conference In Jerusalem

Conference content

Hacker attack

AI goes berserk

Turning point

Peace agreement in Rafah

Kasperski's takeover

Putin's arrest

Trump's arrest

XIS arrest

Sinwar and Arzu

Netanyahu and Arzu

World constitution

The destruction of Prism

World peace

Tom's second dream

Yuan and Pasha's wedding

Wedding Tom and Arzu

The transformation of Jerusalem

Meeting of friends at Pascha

The wind farm in Germany

Regenerative from Emden to Berlin

Talks with politicians in Berlin

The mathematics of happiness

At the Cafe am Kurfürstendamn

Intercultural marriages

Visit to China

The Glass Bead Game

Manning and Felshtinsky

Psychotherapy

Lecture at the United Nations

Resistance

Vladimir in Burkina Faso

Surrogates

The GWPS

Shutdown of Zaporizhia

The Temple of Jerusalem

Digital TransMonotheism

Back in Gaza City

In old age

The font

The homecoming

Impressum neobooks

The turn of the millennium

The Philosopher's Stone of Palestine

Tom Birkbach

New York City, 2024

[email protected]

In the hazy twilight hours of the last day of the millennium, as the world was immersed in a spectacular party for the coming century, an aura of doomsday mood wove its way through the festive lights and dazzling colours. The crowd seemed to be filled with a strange mixture of euphoria and apprehension, as if torn between the desire for a new beginning and the fear of an unknown future.

The words change and revolution resonated in the conversations. "The new millennium brings us into the digital age, into an era of unlimited possibilities," whispered a voice of hope. But at the same time, an air of uncertainty wafted through the crowd, accompanied by fears of technological chaos and computer apocalypse.

In the midst of the festivities, some spoke of dark prophecies and concerns about possible Y2K problems. "What if the computers go crazy and everything crashes?" murmured a worried citizen, his eyes nervously wandering between the flashing lights and the stars.

On the streets, the colourful fireworks were reflected in the windows of houses illuminated by a sea of glowing screens. An elderly lady, leaning back in her comfortable armchair, sighed and said: "The computers are taking over everything, my dears. I can only hope that they don't devour us."

In the final hours of the millennium, joy and uncertainty, hope for the future and the shadows of computer anxiety mingled. The clock struck midnight and the world entered the new age, accompanied by a crescendo of joy and a background melody of uncertainty.

In the last breaths of the millennium, when the sky above Gaza Beach was streaked with twinkling stars, a mystical silence suddenly fell over the coastal area. The salty sea breeze intertwined with a touch of magic as a meteorite came crashing down from the starry sky in a brilliant beam of light.

The clock struck midnight, and at this magical moment the meteorite silently pierced the atmosphere, leaving behind a sparkling tail that lit up the night sky like a magical firework display. A shimmering glow surrounded the impact site as the mystery of the meteorite lingered in the night.

Nobody actually saw the meteorite hit, and yet the few people who were on the beach at that hour felt an inexplicable presence. Rumours of a heavenly gift began to spread, as if this meteorite were a mystical sign that lent special significance to the transition into a new millennium.

Mysterious lights danced across the surf and the sand seemed to glow with a mysterious lustre. People in the vicinity felt a strange energy that seemed to emanate from this invisible visitor from the depths of space.

In the hours after the spectacular event, curious people searched the beach, but the meteorite disappeared as if it had retreated into the darkness. It was rumoured that he may have been sent by the stars to convey a message of hope and new beginnings in the stillness of the night - a mysterious gift from the vastness of the universe.

The birth

In the last moments of the millennium, as the New Year's Eve bells sent their melodious song through the frosty air, a small, remote clinic in Bethlehem was the place where the fates of Fatu Messiani and her artificially conceived daughter merged.

The waiting room pulsated with excitement and nervousness as the world outside shook with celebration. Fatu, surrounded by gleaming medical equipment and the quiet hum of electronic monitors, sensed the tension of the impending moment. The rhythmic beating of the heart rate machine was overlaid by her own excited heartbeat.

The gentle glow of the operating light bathed the room in a subdued glow as the clock ticked inexorably towards midnight. The soft whispers of the nurses whispering soothing words mingled with the background noise of the New Year celebrations outside.

Fatu, tired from the exertion of the birthing process, raised her eyes to the cheering crowds shimmering in through the window. But in this intimate space, where life found a new beginning, the world outside seemed far away.

Just as the first New Year's crackers rang out and the clock struck midnight, the crying of a newborn baby girl was woven into the sound of the celebrations. Fatu Messiani held her newborn daughter in her arms, and in this unique moment of transition from one century to the next, the world fell silent for a moment - a mixture of joy, hope and the magic of a new life.

Fatu Messiani's husband stepped in and gazed lovingly at his wife. "We finally have the child we've wanted for so long. Look, she's so wonderful! I would like to call her Venus," said Fatu. Her husband hid his slight discomfort at not being the biological father because of his infertility "I'm so happy for you and for the three of us."

The Putin era

On the chilly morning of 1 January 2000, a historic backdrop was unveiled as Vladimir Putin, a man of stoic calm and strategic skill, took over the leadership of Russia. The Kremlin, with its frosty glamour, reflected the handover of power as the world looked on spellbound.

Putin entered the Grand Kremlin Palace and the atmosphere was tense. His energetic gaze, characterised by his experiences in the KGB, betrayed a determination that was to change the landscape of power. The assembled masses waited as the chimes of the Spasskaya Tower heralded the arrival of a new political era.

There was a hint of promise for global change in his inaugural speech. "Russia will build bridges, not walls," Putin proclaimed in a voice that seemed to echo through the centuries. Expectations of world peace between East and West blossomed in people's hearts.

The cool morning air spread over the rooftops of the Kremlin as Putin presented his vision of a united continent. He evoked an era in which the tensions of the Cold War faded and diplomacy triumphed over war. People around the world held their breath in the hope that the bridges Putin promised to build would actually lay the foundations for an era of peace.

And so the new millennium began with the hope of a stable peace, while Putin took charge and enveloped the world in a political wisdom that carried the hopes and aspirations of an entire generation.

The one bot

In a darkened room at the NSA, the mysterious boss revealed the new spying bot Prism to his employee Edward Snowden. With a whispering tone and a hint of conspiracy, the boss explained: "Snowden, this is Prism - our eye in the digital shadows."

Snowden listened intently as the boss revealed the significance of Prism with a mysterious smile: "It's like we have our own ring, Snowden. A digital artefact that grants power over information, just as Sauron's ring promised power over the world."

The gloomy atmosphere intensified when the boss compared the functions of Prism with the inscription on Sauron's ring: "Prism finds, binds and penetrates. A virtual darkness that we control. Snowden, we hold the strings of the digital world in our hands."

Snowden realised the implications of this revelation as the shadows of surveillance deepened.

In the synagogue

The synagogue was filled with soft melodies and the sound of prayers as 12-year-old Tom Birkbach sat next to his parents. The rabbi stepped in front of the Torah shrine and began his sermon on the theological self-understanding of the Jews.

Rabbi: "Dear congregation, our faith is deeply rooted in the history and teachings of our ancestors. We are a people of the covenant, a people who keep the commandments of God and carry the hope of a more just world."

Tom listened attentively as thoughts whirled in his young head.

Rabbi: "We see ourselves as a light for the nations, carrying the wisdom of the Torah into the world. Our traditions and rituals connect us with our roots and give us orientation."

Tom looked at his parents, who nodded devoutly, trying to grasp the deeper meanings.

Rabbi: "It is our responsibility to make the world a better place by practising justice and charity. For in the unity of our people lies the power to carry the divine into the world."

After the sermon, Tom's mind continued to wander as he struggled to understand the rabbi's words. In his childlike innocence, he thought about how he himself could be a light to the world, inspired by the teachings and traditions of his community.

Obama's inauguration

As a young boy, Tom Birkbach experienced the historic inauguration of Barack Obama together with his parents. The chill of the January wind was drowned out by the warm atmosphere as the family mingled with the cheering crowd.

Tom's proud parents exchanged excited glances as they discussed the significance of the moment. "This is a milestone for the civil rights movement and the liberal movement," Tom's father said with a broad smile.

Tom's mum added: "Just think of how far we've come. A black president! This shows that change is possible, that we can move forward as a society."

Pete Seeger performed together with Bruce Springsteen at "We Are One: The Obama Inaugural Celebration at the Lincoln Memorial" on 18 January 2009 and sang "This Land Is Your Land" and "We Shall Overcome" together. It was a moving moment as the artists shared the message of unity and hope during the inauguration ceremonies.

While Obama spoke the oath, the crowd erupted in joy. Tom's parents' eyes shone with pride and hope. They celebrated not only a political success, but also the triumph of ideals that stood for equality and unity.

As a young boy, Tom felt the energy and enthusiasm of his parents. Obama's words "Yes we can" were engraved in his heart as a motto. This experience shaped his childhood and sharpened his understanding of the impact that positive changes in politics can have on people's lives.

Arzu and her father

Father Faisal: "Arzu, my heart, sit with me. I want to talk to you about something important."

Arzu: "Yes, Baba? What's going on?"

Father Faisal: "You see, my darling, there is so much pain in our country, so much oppression that we experience every day. The people to whom we belong are fighting for their rights, for a life in dignity."

Arzu: "But why, Baba? Why do people have to fight?"

Father: "You know, Arzu, it's about justice. Many people in our home country do not have the freedom we want. They have to overcome barriers to go to school, to work, to lead a normal life. That makes me sad and angry."

Arzu: "But why are people so evil, Baba? Why can't they just live in peace?"

Father: "It's complicated, my dear. Some people believe that they can take our land away from us, that they can take away our right to determine our own lives. That makes me angry because I want you to grow up in a world where you are free and safe."

Arzu: "But, Baba, why do you have to be so sad? You are strong!"

Father: "I am strong, my darling, because I love you and am fighting for your future. We have to stick together and believe in a better future. But sometimes, when I think about the injustice, my anger can boil over. It is important that we learn to fight for the good, even if it is difficult."

Arzu: "I want you to be happy, Baba. I love you."

Father: "And I love you, Arzu. Let's be strong together and fight for a world in which you can grow up without fear and full of hope."

Nelson Obatzki

Nelson Obatzki from Burkina Faso, a seven-year-old boy, lives in the midst of abject poverty. His gaze reflects the burning hunger that clutches his small hands tightly. "Sometimes my stomach hurts so much that it's hard to think," he says in a quiet, serious tone.

Worries about his mother, weakened by AIDS and without help, draw deep lines on his forehead. "Mum says we have to be strong, but sometimes I hear her crying quietly in the night," Nelson reveals with sad eyes.

Despite this gloomy reality, a smile occasionally breaks through his thin lips. "When Aunt Amina tells jokes, I forget I'm hungry for a moment," he confesses, as a touch of joie de vivre lights up his face. The aunt, herself destitute, takes loving care of the family, her hands resting lovingly on Nelson's shoulders. "It gives us the feeling that we are not alone, even when food is scarce," he says with childlike gratitude.

In this microcosm of poverty, moments of happiness flash like little rays of sunshine in a dark sky, and Nelson Obatzki defies the misery with a remarkable spark of joie de vivre.

Yuan's day at school

An exciting morning dawns in Wuhan as 8-year-old Yuan Hi gets ready for a typical Chinese school day. The sun casts its rays over the busy streets as Yuan Hi slips into his school uniform, which is as immaculate as the morning dew.

In the Hi family, the day is always structured. After a nutritious breakfast, where the family sits together and swaps stories, Yuan Hi sets off for school. The school run is lively and vibrant, with laughter and cheerful chatter filling the streets.

The school itself is an impressive building that combines modern design with traditional Chinese elements. The lesson begins with a short assembly during which the pupils sing hymns and fulfil their national duties. Discipline and respect for teachers are of central importance.

The subjects include not only maths and Chinese, but also a wide range of activities such as art, music and sport. Yuan Hi is enthusiastic about the creative teaching methods and the interactive learning materials. Teachers encourage students to work together and emphasise the importance of teamwork.

During the breaks, the children romp around in the schoolyard, play traditional games such as diabolos and skipping rope, and share their latest discoveries. School education emphasises not only academic success, but also the development of social skills and moral values.

After lessons, the children often go on to additional learning activities, be it piano lessons or karate classes. Yuan Hi returns home, where the family eats dinner together. The parents help him with his homework and tell him stories about Chinese culture and history.

Education in the People's Republic of China emphasises diligence, discipline and respect for elders. Despite the strict structure, Yuan Hi's Chinese school day radiates with an atmosphere of curiosity, community and the relentless pursuit of knowledge.

Arzu finds a black stone

The sun slowly began to set on the horizon as 11-year-old Arzu walked along the beach in Gaza. The fine sand tickled her bare feet as she looked curiously for shells and other treasures. Suddenly, something shiny caught her eye.

In the gentle surf, she saw a mysterious, smooth black stone. Her heart leapt for joy when she picked it up and felt the cool weight in her hands. The stone felt different to the usual pebbles polished by the surf. Arzu couldn't help but look at her new find with pride.

The stone was deep black, almost as if it was swallowing up the last light of the day. It was unusually heavy for its size, and as Arzu looked at it, she had no idea that she was holding a meteorite in her hands - an unrecognised space rock that had gone astray on its journey through the universe and had now landed on the beach as a silent witness to past cosmic adventures. For Arzu, it was simply a mysterious, smooth black stone, which she happily tucked away in her bag, unaware of the intriguing story it carried.

The holiday

The Israeli middle-class parents Faitu and Jeffe Messiani had been looking forward to this holiday on Gaza Beach for months. When they finally arrived and Venus saw the holiday accommodation, she could hardly contain her excitement. With shining eyes and a radiant smile, she exclaimed: "Look, mum and dad! This will be the best holiday home ever! I can hardly wait to play on the beach and collect shells!"

The parents smiled at Venus' pure enthusiasm and felt the anticipation of the upcoming holiday spreading through their hearts. Faitu gently placed a hand on Venus' shoulder and said with a warm smile: "It's going to be a wonderful time, dear. We will savour every moment on the beach and make lots of wonderful memories."

Jeffe nodded in agreement and added: "And remember, Venus, we're here to come together as a family and enjoy our time together. No matter what happens, we stand together and have each other."

Venus beamed with happiness and hugged her parents tightly. "I love you so much! Thank you for giving us this great holiday," she whispered happily.

They entered the holiday home together, full of anticipation for the adventures they would experience on Gaza Beach.

Venus could hardly wait to explore the beach when they finally entered the holiday home. With a joyful whoop, she ran towards the beach, her feet buried deep in the warm sand. She felt the salty sea breeze on her skin and heard the calming sound of the waves.

With every step, she discovered new wonders on the beach. She collected colourful shells washed up by the water and admired the glittering grains of sand that tickled between her toes. Venus walked barefoot along the edge of the water while small waves washed gently over her feet.

Her laughter and joy filled the air as she ran along the shore, her arms outstretched as if to embrace all the beauty of the beach. She looked out over the endless sea and felt freer than ever before.

She kept turning round to wave to her parents and show them how happy she was. For Venus, this beach was not just a place of pleasure, but a place of magic and adventure that she would carry in her heart forever.

While Venus was exploring the beach, she noticed an older girl sitting alone on the shore. Curious, she went closer and saw that the girl had tears in her eyes. "Hello," Venus said softly and sat down next to her. "Is everything all right?"

Arzu Bin Faisal, the 11-year-old, looked up in surprise. "Oh, hello. Yes, I'm just a bit sad. My little brother has just told me that he doesn't want to play on the beach with me."

Venus smiled sensitively. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you know what? We can play together! I'm Venus, and I love being on the beach."

Arzu smiled for the first time in a while. "I am Arzu. That would be really nice. Thank you, Venus." She wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up. "What do you want to do?"

Venus was beaming with enthusiasm. "We could build a sandcastle! Or collect shells! Or splash around in the water!"

Arzu laughed and nodded. "That sounds like fun. Let's get going!" The two girls ran to the shore together and began to fill the beach with their laughter and friendship.

Arzu sighed heavily as she felt the warm sand between her fingers. "Venus, sometimes life is really hard here," she began quietly. "My mum and dad are always worried about money and we don't always have enough to eat. And sometimes, when we want to go to school, the roads are blocked and we're not allowed through."

Venus looked at Arzu sympathetically and put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "That sounds really difficult, Arzu. I'm sorry you have to go through this."

Arzu nodded and continued: "And sometimes, when we want to play, we hear loud noises from outside and Mum says we have to go in quickly. She's afraid for us, Venus. Afraid of what might happen outside."

Venus' eyes filled with tears as she felt the weight on Arzu's shoulders. "I'm so sorry that you have to go through all this. But you know, I'll always be there for you. We are best friends and together we are strong. I promise."

Arzu smiled weakly and hugged Venus tightly. "Thank you, Venus. You're the best friend I've ever had." At that moment, the two girls felt more connected than ever, ready to support each other in every challenge life threw at them.

Venus and Arzu were playing happily in the sand when Venus suddenly asked: "Arzu, why do some people argue so much here?"

Arzu shrugged her shoulders and replied: "I don't know exactly, Venus. But my mum says it has something to do with land and that it's been going on for a long time."

Venus scratched her head. "But why can't they just stop arguing and be friends?"

Arzu nodded. "That would be really nice. But sometimes it's difficult for the adults to come to an agreement."

Venus thought for a moment. "Maybe we could help make them friends!"

Arzu smiled. "Yes, that would be great! Maybe we could build a big sandcastle for everyone and get them to work together!"

The two girls laughed and played on, hoping that their childlike innocence and their joint play could make a small contribution to resolving the conflict.

As Venus and Arzu played on the beach, Arzu whispered excitedly: "Hey Venus, I have something very special to show you!" She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a shiny black stone that sparkled in the sunlight and radiated a mysterious aura.

Venus' eyes widened in amazement. "Wow, is that a magic stone?"

Arzu nodded mysteriously. "Yes, I found him here on Gaza beach. I think he has special powers somehow."

Venus looked at the stone with fascination. "He is so beautiful and mysterious. What kind of powers does he have?"

Arzu smiled mysteriously. "I don't know that for sure. But whenever I hold it in my hand, I feel calm and happy."

Venus carefully took the stone in her hand and immediately felt a strange, calming energy. "Wow, that's really magical. Thank you for showing me your secret, Arzu."

The two girls smiled at each other and knew that this special moment had made their friendship even stronger.

Arzu and Venus sat on the shore of the beach, their feet dangling in the clear water, watching the sun slowly set. Arzu grabbed a few smooth stones and handed one to Venus. "Here, look, Venus. I'll show you how to make stones flip on the water."

Venus took the stone and watched Arzu eagerly as she threw the stone across the surface of the water with a swift movement of her hand. The stone bounced several times before it finally sank into the water. "That's really cool! Can I try that too?"

Arzu nodded with a smile. "Sure, just try it out."

Venus picked up another stone and threw it with all her strength. The stone jumped twice, three times and then... It suddenly seemed to stand still, as if it was gliding over the water without sinking.

Arzu and Venus stared at the mysterious stone, fascinated. "Wow, I've never seen that before!" exclaimed Arzu.

Venus smiled mysteriously. "Sometimes there are things that are simply different. Perhaps this stone has a special meaning for us."

The two girls exchanged a meaningful look and knew that this special moment on the beach would connect them forever. No matter how much time passed, the two mysterious stones would always remind them of their friendship and make them believe in the inexplicable wonders of life.

As the day of departure approached, the mood on the beach gradually became sadder. Venus and Arzu had experienced so many wonderful moments together and didn't want their adventure to end.

Arzu and Venus sat together on the shore, their feet in the warm sand, watching the sunset. "I'm sorry you have to leave already," said Arzu with a sad smile.

Venus sighed. "Yes, I wish we could stay here forever and play together every day."

Arzu nodded in agreement. "But no matter where we are, we'll always be best friends, right?"

Venus smiled and nodded vigorously. "Of course! Forever and ever, BFFs!"

The two girls hugged each other tightly, and in that moment they knew that their friendship was strong enough to overcome any distance. Even if they had to part for a while, they would always remain connected in their hearts.

Coffee for a better future for people and nature

Nelson Obatzki and his cousin Keke, two boys barely older than twelve, lived in a small village in Burkina Faso. They grew up in the endless coffee fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. Their everyday life was characterised by hard work and the smell of fermented coffee beans.

Every morning, before the sun had even brightened the sky, Nelson and Keke made their way to the coffee plantation. Her hands were already marked with countless cuts and calluses, and her clothes were washed out and tattered. But her smile was unchanged, her eyes shining despite her tiredness.

Their job was to spread sprays over the coffee bushes to keep pests away and protect the harvest. The two boys were wearing old, holey gloves and protective masks that had long since lost their effectiveness. But nobody paid any attention to them, because their contribution to the harvest was indispensable.

They worked for hours under the burning sun, their small bodies enveloped in the vapours of the chemicals. Nelson often coughed and Keke suffered from headaches, but they had no choice. The harvest had to be protected, whatever the cost.

The days passed, and while Nelson and Keke went about their work, the coffee bushes grew lush and green. The farmers spoke proudly of a good harvest, of a profit that would improve their lives. But for Nelson and Keke there was no profit, only the exhausting reality of a life characterised by exploitation and hardship.

The sun was leaning towards the horizon when Nelson and Keke finished their work, exhausted. Her gaze wandered over the endless coffee fields that stretched to the horizon. They knew they were part of a system that was taking advantage of them, but they had no choice. There were no alternatives in their world, only the harsh reality of exploitation that knew no boundaries.

Keke's father, Nelson's uncle, a man of simplicity and strength, stood at the edge of the coffee fields and watched in silence as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. His hands, rough and marked from countless hours of hard labour, rested heavily on his knee as his eyes pierced the sky.

As a representative of a forgotten farming community, he negotiated every year with the traders who had come to harvest the fruits of their labour. But the negotiations were always a struggle, a fight for a fair price for the precious harvest.

This year, however, the price offered by the dealer was a mockery. It was a starvation price that barely covered the cost of the labour and sweat that the farmers had invested in the coffee fields. But the merchant was relentless, his words cold and calculating.

Keke's father looked dumbly at the ground while the merchant dictated his terms. His heart was heavy with disappointment, his thoughts filled with the burden of a future marked by poverty and injustice.

Nevertheless, he finally nodded reluctantly, his lips pressed tightly together. He knew that he had no other choice, that he and his family were dependent on selling their crops in order to survive. So he accepted the starvation price, his hands clenched in anger, his heart filled with resignation.

In a gloomy back room, far away from the eyes of the public, the mafia coffee dealer met with Keke's father. The room was filled with an ominous silence as the merchant scrutinised his father with a cold gaze.

"You will sign this contract," the merchant growled, his voice dangerously low. "You will confirm that there is no child labour on your plantation and that you adhere to the highest environmental and social standards and that you have received a responsible price. Got it?"

Keke's father swallowed hard, the pressure from the dealer palpable in the air. He knew that he had no choice, that his resistance would only lead to more problems. So he nodded reluctantly, his hands trembling with fear.

"Yes, I'll sign it," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But please, leave my family alone. We have done nothing."

The merchant smiled cynically, his eyes cold and calculating. "Your family will be left alone as long as you do as I say," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "But woe betide you if you try to double-cross me. You know what's going to happen."

Keke's father signed the contract with trembling hands, his eyes filled with despair and fear. He knew that he had committed himself to the devil, that he had sold his soul for the promise of security and peace.

When the merchant left the room, Keke's father was left alone, his thoughts filled with the weight of his decision. He knew that he had made a pact with the devil, that he was now caught in a web of lies and deceit.

And as he held the contract in his hand, he felt the bitterness of realising that in this world, even the noblest ideals were often sacrificed for profit and power. And so he was left behind, caught between the worlds of good and evil, between the hope of a better future and the reality of life in a merciless world.

As the trader turned away and left the coffee fields behind him, Nelson's uncle was left alone, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He knew that this price of hunger did not just affect him and his family, but an entire community of farmers caught in the endless spiral of exploitation.

With a heavy sigh and a feeling of hopelessness, he turned away and began the long walk back to his family. But a tender flame of hope still glowed in his heart, a hint of change that could not be extinguished despite everything.

The derelict ship, its hull scarred by past storms, bobbed laboriously on the ocean waves, as if struggling against the weight of its age and neglect. Under the flag of Grenada, a symbol of distance and exile, it carried its cargo across the endless expanse of the sea.

On board this dilapidated ship, which looked more like a wreck than a vessel, were Indian sailors, men from the other side of the world, separated from home and family. Their faces were marked by the exhaustion of countless days at sea, their hands rough from working on the shabby sails and rusty anchor chains.

In the swaying holds of the ship rested the sacks of precious coffee, the result of the hard labour of farmers like Nelson's uncle, people who lived far away from the glittering metropolises of the world. The smell of fermented coffee beans hung heavy in the air, mixed with the salty breath of the sea and the scent of decay.

The voyage of this coffee was characterised by hardship and danger, by storms and waves breaking over the deck. But the sailors stood firm, their hands clasped tightly around the steering wheel, their eyes constantly fixed on the horizon.

When the derelict ship finally reached the port of Hamburg, the seamen's relief was palpable. Their tired faces brightened for a moment as they caught sight of the first signs of the mainland, the promise of land and tranquillity.

But their joy was short-lived, because the reality of the port of Hamburg was harsh and merciless. Here, between the gigantic cargo ships and the busy quays, her ship and its precious cargo would be little more than a fleeting thought, a small part of an infinite network of trade and commerce.

Nevertheless, the sailors unloaded the sacks of coffee with deliberate devotion, each one with the appreciation of a treasure that was far more than just a commodity. Because in every sack rested the story of Nelson and Keke, of his father and their community, of people who fought against all odds for a better life. And while the coffee found its way into the hands of the merchants, the memory of its long journey across the sea remained in the hearts of the sailors, a reminder of the indomitability of the human spirit.

The Aldi shopper stood in the middle of the hustle and bustle of Hamburg's harbour, surrounded by piles of goods and the incessant noise of machinery. His expression was expressionless, his eyes cool and calculating as he watched the arrival of the precious cargo from a distance.

When the dilapidated ships finally docked at the quay and unloaded the sacks of coffee, the buyer scrutinised each individual load with a critical eye. His hands were impatient, his voice sharp as he questioned the quality of the coffee.

"Quality damage," he announced in a voice that brooked no argument. "The beans are damaged, the flavour is impaired. That is not acceptable."

The sailors, exhausted from their long journey, desperately tried to explain that the damage was due to the rigours of transport, but that the coffee was nevertheless of the highest quality. But the Aldi buyer remained adamant, his decision already made.

"The agreed price will be reduced accordingly," he announced without making a face. "We cannot accept inferior goods. That is not negotiable."

The sailors looked at each other helplessly, their shoulders heavy with disappointment. They knew that they had no chance against the power and influence of a company like Aldi, that their voices would be lost in the noise of the harbour.

With a final resigned sigh, they accepted the buyer's decision, their hands heavy with the burden of injustice. Because they knew that their fight against the exploitation and abuse of the system would never end, that they would always be mere pawns in the hands of the powers that decided their fate.

And while the coffee was brought to the warehouses at the harbour, the memory of the hardship and pain of its journey remained in the hearts of the sailors, a reminder of the ruthlessness of the trade and the coldness of profit that stood above all.

The Polish owner of the haulage company stepped in front of his driver, his face smug and quick-tempered, his eyes full of contempt. "Here," he said gruffly and threw the duplicate driver's cards, ID cards and driving licences onto the table. "You can use it to bypass the statutory break times, understand?"

The driver swallowed hard, his hands trembling with fear. "But Mr Wojciechowski, that's illegal," he dared to intervene, his voice low and trembling. "We can't just fake the breaks, that's dangerous and irresponsible."

Mr Wojciechowski laughed mockingly, his voice full of scorn. "What do you know about responsibility?" he mocked. "You're just a little driver who belongs to me. You do as I say, understand?"

The driver lowered his eyes, his thoughts filled with disappointment and anger. He knew that he had no choice, that he had to bend to the will of his owner if he wanted to keep his job.

"Yes, Mr Wojciechowski," he murmured resignedly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I won't keep the breaks like you demand."

Mr Wojciechowski nodded with satisfaction, his expression smug and triumphant. "That's what I thought," he said and turned away. "You'll see that this is the right way to go. For both of us."

The driver was left alone, his thoughts filled with the bitterness of realisation. He knew that he had made a pact with the devil, that he had sacrificed his principles and his conscience for obedience to a man who sought only profit and power.

He had a sick wife and 3 underage children at home. He was dependent on his wages and had therefore long since learnt to obey in silence.

And so he was left behind, caught between the hope of a better future and the reality of life in a world where selfishness and greed often triumphed over humanity and decency.

And he set off on his weekly journey. Start on Monday early in the morning with the load picked up on Saturday from Poland to complete a week of transport in Germany and return to Poland on Friday or Saturday.

The driver met a dodgy man in a shabby backyard who handed him an envelope. "Here are your forged papers," said the man with a sly grin. "You can use it to transport rubbish from Dresden to Hamburg without anyone getting suspicious."

The driver hesitantly accepted the envelope, his hands trembling with fear. He knew that he was treading on thin ice, that the transport of illegal waste was associated with serious consequences. But he had no choice, he needed the money to feed his family.

"Be careful," the man warned with a scowl. "The police are everywhere, and if you get caught, you'll end up in prison. Got it?"

The driver nodded silently, his throat dry with fear. "Yes, I understand," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I'll be careful."

With the forged papers in his pocket, the driver made his way to Dresden, his heart heavy with fear and guilt. He knew that he had set out on a dangerous path, that he was risking his life and that of his family for a few quick euros.

When he had finally loaded the illegal waste into his lorry, he felt like a criminal doing his dirty business in the shadows of the night. But he had no time for remorse, he had to act quickly before someone caught him.

The journey to Hamburg was long and dangerous, his eyes always on the lookout for the police. But he managed to get his illegal cargo to its destination, his heart pounding with relief and fear.

When he had unloaded the last bag of rubbish, he felt relieved that he had survived the dangerous journey unscathed. But in his heart remained the bitterness of the realisation that he had sacrificed his conscience and his morals for a quick profit. He knew that the rubbish had been loaded onto a ship and would be dumped on a huge rubbish tip in Burkina Faso. And so he was left behind, caught between the hope of a better future and the reality of life in a world where selfishness and greed often triumphed over humanity and decency.

The driver parked his lorry in front of the car wash, his heart pounding with excitement and nervousness. He knew that he couldn't leave any traces behind, that his lorry had to be spotlessly clean before he loaded the next freight.

As the lorry rolled through the car wash, the driver watched every step of the cleaning process intently. He made sure that no odour was noticeable, that no trace of the illegal waste remained to give him away.

When the lorry finally rolled out of the car wash clean and fragrant, the driver sighed with relief. But his work wasn't over yet, he had to make sure that his lorry no longer showed any signs of the illegal cargo.

With skilful hands, he folded away the rubbish sign that marked the waste transport and carefully hid it under a tarpaulin. He took one last look at his lorry before making his way to the harbour.

Arriving at the port, the driver loaded the fermented coffee beans into his food-safe lorry, his hands deft and experienced. He made sure that the cargo was securely stowed and that no one suspected the true nature of his pre-carriage by presenting the paper of forged pre-cargo.

When he finally left the harbour walls behind him, the driver felt relieved that he had successfully completed the dangerous mission.

The driver made his way from Hamburg to Ketsch, his lorry loaded with the precious coffee beans for Aldi. The roads were full of traffic, but the driver was confident that he would arrive on time.

But when he reached the motorway, the sight of a fatal accident hit him like a slap in the face. The road was closed, the cars were stationary and the traffic jam stretched for kilometres.

The driver tried to remain calm, but the minutes ticked by and the clock ticked inexorably. He finally reached Ketsch, but the late arrival caused trouble for the Aldi employees.

When the driver mentioned the accident and the traffic jam, he was told that he was still responsible for the delay and that Aldi would impose a penalty. His boss announced that part of his wages for that month would be deducted to cover the cost of the delay.

The driver sighed heavily, his thoughts filled with frustration and disappointment. He knew that he was not to blame for the accident, but he still had to bear the consequences. It was a hard lesson about the unfairness of life and the harshness of the working world he found himself in.

And so he continued his work, caught between the hope of a better future and the reality of life as a simple labourer in a world that was often harsh and unforgiving.

The halls of Aldi's own roasting plant, a place of cool efficiency and hustle and bustle, were bustling with activity as the coffee beans arrived from all over the world. Under the watchful eye of the supervisors, the beans were carefully sorted and prepared for the roasting process.

The coffee beans were slowly heated and roasted in the gleaming machines of the roasting plant, which sat enthroned in the hall like monstrous monsters, their aroma tantalisingly intense. The crackling and snapping of the beans filled the air as the heat slowly turned them a deep brown colour.

On the long conveyor belts stood Georgian temporary workers, men and women who were far from home and hoping for the promise of a better life. Their hands were skilful and quick, their movements routine as they collected the roasted beans and filled them into the packaging machines.

Under the watchful eye of the supervisors, the temporary labourers worked tirelessly, their faces expressionless, their thoughts hidden behind a mask of adaptability. They knew that their survival depended on this work, that they had no choice but to bow to the demands of the system.

The packaging machines pounded and purred as they filled and sealed the coffee packs with iron precision. Each pack was labelled Amaroy, disguising the origin of Aldi, a symbol of the power and influence of a company that was present everywhere.

And while the Georgian temporary workers went about their work, the memory of their homeland and their family remained in their hearts, a faint shadow amidst the bright lights of the roasting plant. For they knew that their fate was not in their hands, that they were merely the playthings of the powers that determined their lives. And so they continued to work, their hands skilful, their thoughts hidden, while the coffee was prepared for the shelves of Aldi, ready to conquer the world.

The TV screens flickered with bright colours and euphoric music to advertise the coffee, which was praised as a "milestone for a better future for people and nature". A voice, soft and seductive, raved about the virtues of this coffee, its incomparable flavour and its ethically impeccable origin.

"Savour every sip of our delicious coffee, based on the principles of responsibility and sustainability," the voice announced, while images of happy farmers and beaming faces flickered across the screen. "Every bean is treated with love and respect, every purchase supports the people behind the product."

The adverts showed idyllic landscapes in which coffee bushes swayed gently in the wind and farmers brought in their harvest with proud faces. The message was clear: This coffee was more than just a drink, it was a symbol of a world that prioritised a better future for people and nature.

Consumers were called upon to become part of this movement, part of a community of people committed to a fairer future. "With every purchase, you support the farmers and workers who produce this coffee with their hard work and dedication," the voice echoed from the speakers, accompanied by images of grateful families and thriving communities.

The advert ended with the Aldi logo, a promise of quality and trust that encouraged consumers to do their bit for a world that was fairer and more sustainable. And while the images on the screens faded, the message remained in the viewers' minds, a promise of change and hope that reached beyond the boundaries of television.

In a shop whose shelves were filled with offers and bargains, the 'Coffee for a better future' was sold as a super special offer. Customers crowded around the stacks of coffee packets, their eyes eager and their hands hastily grasping the tempting offer.

"Look, Martha, this coffee is a bargain!" a man called out to his wife as he threw a packet of coffee into the shopping trolley. "And the best thing about it is that he also acted responsibly. That's exactly what we want, isn't it?"

Martha nodded in agreement as she grabbed another packet of coffee and put it in the trolley. "Yes, that's great. We can finally drink our coffee with a clear conscience without feeling bad."

However, despite the enthusiasm about the supposed bargain, there were also a few critical voices. "That's ridiculous," grumbled an elderly woman when she saw the price of the packet of coffee. "This is still too expensive for responsibly traded coffee. These supermarkets just want to take money out of our pockets."

A man standing next to her nodded in agreement as he typed on his brand new iphone. "Yes, that really is a cheek. As if responsible trade were something luxurious. They should be ashamed of themselves for selling this as a special offer."

The customers finally paid at the checkout and left the shop, their shopping trolleys filled with supposed bargains and their minds full of contradictions. Because while they were delighted with the offer, they couldn't help but be annoyed by the price, which seemed too high even in the special offer.

And so they left the shop, their faces split between satisfaction at what they thought was a bargain and displeasure at what they thought was too high a price. Because in a world where everything had its price, the value of a better future for people and nature was often difficult to determine.

The coffee produced in this way was also drunk in large quantities in the executive floors, administrative offices and purchasing departments of Aldi and many other global companies, fuelling everyone's increasingly hectic workload. The buyers were able to push down the prices of raw materials and services for the world's poor ever more rigorously and drive the spiral of exploitation and impoverishment ever deeper.

Vladimir's secret

In the secretive confines of his room, surrounded by the silent walls, 16-year-old Russian Vladimir Kaspersky stands in front of his reflection. His inner thoughts, so painful and torn, do not allow him to speak aloud the words that define his identity.

**Vladimir:** (whispering to himself) "I'm gay."

The weight of this revelation rests heavily on his shoulders. The silence in his room is only broken by muffled sobs as Vladimir comes to terms with the homophobia in his neighbourhood and the impending state consequences.

He lowers his head and fights back the tears. In a country where personal freedom, especially with regard to sexual orientation, is suppressed, he cannot allow himself to reveal his true identity. The thought of the possible consequences, both within his family and before the law, holds him captive.

**Vladimir:** (muffled) "I can't tell anyone. Nobody can know."

Vladimir decides to keep his truth deep inside himself, in the shadow of a world that would not accept his identity. In the solitude of his room he feels both trapped and protected, while in his silence he finds a temporary refuge.

Tom's dream

Tom loved books and films and sometimes lost himself completely in his fantasy world. He had once read secretly for a long time late at night before falling asleep with the book on his nose.

In a cosmic convergence, Momo, Harry Potter, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Frodo, Faust and Archangel Michael found themselves in an epic battle against a common threat. The grey lords, Voldemort, Darth Vader, Sauron, Mephisto and Lucifer had combined their dark powers to plunge the world into eternal darkness.

The battle raged in a magical crescendo. Lightsabers, magic wands, magic rings and heavenly power merged into a breathtaking ballet of good versus evil. The heroes fought in unison, joining forces against the looming darkness.

But at the climax of the fight, when the energy seemed to crackle in the air, they all froze at the same time. Time, which seemed to slow down for a moment, was abruptly stopped. The heroes and their adversaries froze into statues, every pose frozen in the vortex of battle.

The world was filled with an eerie silence, while the heroes and villains alike remained in a fragile balance. The forces of light and darkness came to a bizarre standstill and the world held its breath. In that magical moment, the fate of the world seemed to be balanced on a knife's edge, and the question remained unanswered as to whether light or darkness would ultimately triumph.

Startled, Tom woke up and was still caught up in his dream when the alarm clock rang to get up for school in the morning.

Tom was a good student and as he got older he developed a great passion, first for computer games and later for programming and hacking. That's why he decided to specialise in computer science at college.

Holidays in the Crimea

Pasha Chekhonova, the 15-year-old Ukrainian participant, found herself in the picturesque Crimea to take part in a holiday camp for talented young people. The venue was the enchanting "Palace of Cultures" in Yalta, a historic building with ornate decorations and wide columns surrounded by majestic gardens.

The venue was located directly on the shore of the Black Sea. A magnificent jetty stretches out into the clear, azure blue water that gently laps against the coastal rocks. White sailing boats pass by on the horizon while the sun casts its golden rays on the foaming waves.

Pasha could barely hide her excitement as she entered the impressive event building. Inside the "Palace of Cultures" there was a lively atmosphere, filled with the energy of young, talented minds from different regions. The walls were decorated with creative works of art from past events.

Her thoughts were overflowing with joy. "This is my chance to show off my talent and learn from others," thought Pasha as she walked along the corridors. Her amber-coloured eyes shone with excitement as she kept an eye on the eagerly awaited workshops and presentations.

The joy of being able to share her passions with like-minded people radiated from Pasha. The sound of the sea and the fresh breeze added to the electrifying atmosphere. She took a deep breath and thought: "This experience will not only develop my talent, but also create lasting memories of the beautiful Crimea."

With a broad smile, Pasha joined the other participants, ready to experience an inspiring time of learning, creativity and community in sun-kissed Crimea.

Pasha could not take her eyes off Vladimir Kaspersky when they met for the first time. His dark curls danced in the wind and his expressive eyes seemed to tell a universe of their own stories. In her girlish excitement, Pasha wanted to take every opportunity to get in touch with him.

**Pasha:** (in an excited voice) "Hey, Vladimir, right? I am Pasha. The workshops here are so exciting, aren't they?"

**Vladimir:** (smiling kindly) "Yes, absolutely. I have already learnt a lot. The atmosphere is really inspiring."

Pasha's heart beat faster as she tried to find the right words to express her admiration.

**Pasha:** "You have such a great charisma. I think your ideas are really impressive."

Vladimir, noticeably flattered, thanked him, but his look betrayed a certain reticence.

**Vladimir:** "Thank you, Pasha. I'm glad you like my approach. This event is a great opportunity to learn from each other."

Pasha, not easily discouraged, tried subtle overtures.

**Pasha:** "Have you seen the gardens by the sea? Maybe we could explore it together?"

Vladimir, with a slightly mysterious smile, answered cautiously.

**Vladimir:** "That sounds tempting, Pasha, but I've signed up for a workshop. I really want to make the most of this experience."

Pasha's heartbeat slowed a little, but she could respect Vladimir's clear priorities.

**Pasha:** "Of course, I understand. Good luck with your workshop. Maybe I'll see you later."

Vladimir nodded gratefully and politely withdrew. Although he distanced himself, Pasha could still sense a connection, a kind of human bond. She decided to cherish the friendship and time spent together on this inspiring holiday retreat and to accept the subtle attraction as a form of deeper friendship.

The farewell party at the holiday camp reached its climax when the music blared loudly from the loudspeakers and the atmosphere was exuberant. Pasha, surrounded by laughter and dancing, was enjoying the last moments when suddenly the drunken son of a Russian oligarch, Pavel, invaded her personal space.

**Pawel:** (slurring) "Pasha, you look so pretty today. Are we dancing?"

Pawel's words sounded uncertain and his grip became too intense. Pasha, alarmed and uncomfortable, politely tried to free himself.

**Pasha:** "Thank you, Pawel, but I don't want to dance right now."

Pawel, drunk and unperturbed, didn't let up and became more insistent.

**Pawel:** (grinning) "Come on, little one, have a bit of fun with me."

At this awkward moment, Vladimir appeared out of nowhere and immediately recognised the situation.

**Vladimir:** (determined) "Hey, Pavel, I think Pasha has just danced enough. Leave her alone."

Pawel, somewhat confused, focussed on Wladimir.

**Pawel:** "What's it to you? Pasha doesn't mind."

**Vladimir:** (calmly but firmly) "I think you've had enough to drink not to be able to judge it properly. Let her go."

Vladimir put a protective shield around Pasha and gently pulled her away from Pavel. Pasha, grateful for the rescue, could not hide a mixture of relief and admiration in her eyes.

**Pasha:** "Thank you, Vladimir. That was pretty unpleasant."

**Vladimir:** "No problem. I don't let anyone bother me in my neighbourhood."

The two moved away from the unpleasant scene, and Vladimir led Pasha to their friends. The atmosphere relaxed again, but Pasha couldn't help but admire Vladimir for his chivalrous rescue, while insisting that everyone at the party be respected.

As the departure from the holiday resort approached, Pasha summoned up all her courage to ask Vladimir for an opportunity to make contact.

**Pasha:** (smiling shyly) "Vladimir, it was a really great time here. Maybe we could meet again later? Could we exchange our phone numbers?"

Vladimir, friendly but firm, replied.

**Vladimir:** "Pasha, I'm sorry, but I keep my social life rather private. I hope you understand."

Pasha, trying to hide her disappointment, nodded in understanding.

**Pasha:** "Yes, of course, I understand that. Maybe we could still follow each other on Instagram?"

Vladimir hesitated briefly before answering.

**Vladimir:** "To be honest, I'm not that active on social media. But it was really nice to meet you."

Pasha, with a sad smile, accepted the clear answer.

**Pasha:** "Yes, it was really nice. Maybe we'll bump into each other one day."

The bus started to move and Pasha looked out of the window while a feeling of disappointment spread through her heart. Sometimes certain encounters are simply limited to the time and place, she thought, and tried to concentrate on the beautiful memories that she nevertheless took with her.

Arzu in Hamburg

Due to her outstanding intelligence, Arzu won a scholarship to study environmental engineering in Hamburg despite her poor background from the Gaza Strip because of her exceptional academic achievements.

Arzu, looking at her fellow students in Hamburg, couldn't help but feel the emotional differences between her own life experience and that of her fellow students.

In the midst of a bustling campus, Arzu overheard conversations that challenged her worldview. A group of fellow students were casually discussing their latest debauched parties. "That was so crazy, man! No boundaries, no rules - just pure freedom!" exclaimed one of his fellow students enthusiastically.

Arzu, reserved, couldn't help but watch quietly. A student in an unconventional outfit laughed and said: "Life is too short for restrictions. We live for the moment."

Another fellow student added: "Rules are for philistines. We should savour everything while we can."