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a group of palm trees with a foggy sky in the background

Light over the landscape

It was eleven at night, and the world lay cloaked in darkness. The moon, shy yet persistent, played hide-and-seek with the clouds, casting fleeting silvery light over the landscape. Around me, the tall coconut trees swayed gently in the breeze, their silhouettes a rhythmic dance against the endless expanse of paddy fields that stretched beyond my makeshift bed. This was my world for the nighta fold-able cot, with me draped in a sleeping bag and enclosed by a mosquito net. For the first time in my life, I was sleeping out in the open, nothing but thin mesh separating me from the stars. In the spaces where clouds hadn’t staked their claim, the sky revealed its glittering secrets, a cosmic reminder of how small and fleeting we are. But I wasn’t here for the stars. I was here for the land. This village was my birthplace, though I hadn’t seen… Light over the landscape

The lucky coin

“What are you looking for?” the police constable asked, eyeing the young man crawling on his knees under the park bench. “My lucky coin,” the young man replied, still searching the ground. “Your what?” The cop’s irritation was evident. “My lucky gold coin,” the young man repeated, patting the grass around him. “Get out from under there before I have to use my baton,” the constable said sharply. The young man scrambled to his feet. The cop studied him closely, mentally matching his face to the local criminal mugshots. The young man was tall and thin, looking more puzzled than dangerous. “Care to explain what’s going on?” the cop asked. The young man began, “I live in a housing society as a paying guest. The flat number is B23. I share it with five other guys. We’re all preparing for various employment exams.” “So you’re all unemployed?” “No, I have… The lucky coin

The Survivor

I was the survivor, the survivor who lived to tell the tale. My tale started when the sun dipped below the jagged peaks, casting long shadows over the barren landscape of Xalian. The first half of my training was complete. Now came the crucial test: surviving the night on this hostile planet. I was confident. I had navigated thousands of simulations, each one a trial by fire. I knew the scenarios, and I knew the stakes. For the tenth time, I checked my inventory: sidearms, boxes of ammunition, rations, explosive charges, flares, and emergency medical kits. Everything was meticulously organized in the drop pod. I had crash-landed on Xalian twenty hours ago, a necessary part of the drop pod program. The onboard computers and the pod’s hull had adjusted the trajectory to ensure a safe landing. The final test was a real-life simulation of surviving in hostile terrain. Xalian’s days… The Survivor