Hab noch einige Texte, die ich noch nich veröffentlicht hab, zumindest nicht außerhalb universitärer Einrichtungen. Heute: der sechste und letzte Teil der Kurzgeschichte “Alternate”.
„The formerly dark room was breathtakingly illuminated with white light. The wall from which the sound had come from almost completely disappeared behind a blurry ring-shaped thing. When I looked through it, I could see the same room I was standing in but it was not empty. There were all sorts of butcher tools neatly placed in cupboards. A metal table with small blood stains on it stood in the middle of the room. A woman approached the portal from the other side and entered through it: dark blue uniform decorated with military insignia I have never seen before though I served; short brown hair.
“I’m sorry. You were not supposed to see this,” she uttered. “You have to give me the suitcase, Clark.”
“Who are you? I don’t understand anything of this.”
“You are not supposed to understand anything. Please give me the suitcase, Mr Woodborrow.”
“Why is it that important to you? The mirror broke and the paper is gone. Burnt.”
“I have my orders. I won’t leave without the suitcase.”
I put the case behind my back. She sighed. I saw her hand reaching for something under her jacket and pointing at me with it. L47A1 7.65mm Walther PP, at least something familiar.
“I don’t want to do this. Just give me the suitcase and everything will be over.”
I took a step forward. She released the safety catch.
“One step further and I will shoot.”
I ducked and with a coordinated swing of my right hand knocked her out with the suitcase. I checked her breathing. She was unconscious. I picked up the semi-automatic from off the ground. Even after those years I remembered the CQT courses. I looked at the portal. What kept me in this world? My fingers touched the entrance. It was cold and moist. I crossed over.
I went through the supposedly same corridor I took earlier that day. One of the doors on the left was open and I could take a peek through it. A lorry was parked outside. A man with a white apron was unloading animal carcasses from the back of the vehicle. I continued my way through the hallway. When I got to the entrance area, I saw that the counter carried an opulent variety of meaty delicacies. There were no customers present though. I went outside and looked around. Those were the same people, the same buildings, the same old city. The next moment I could see a huge, oval shadow covering the street together with the crowds of people. Nobody but me raised their head. A golden zeppelin was slowly, floating not far above the ground. Where the hell was I?“
 Close combat tactics