Last year, something really bad happened to me, and it still haunts me sometimes. I’m 15 years old and from Glasgow, Scotland. It all started when I got into doing TikTok challenges with my friends.

Working as a farmer in Cornwall, England, not far from the famous Stonehenge monument, has its share of mysteries. Almost every summer, crop circles appear in my large fields, sometimes taking on spectacularly complex formations.

Living in Tehran, Iran, means navigating a labyrinth of restrictions and dangers, especially as a woman. The rules dictating our behavior in public are suffocating, and not adhering to them places us at great risk.

I woke up before dawn, the cool morning air a welcome reprieve from the relentless heat that would come later. As I tightened my boots, memories from years ago flickered through my mind. At twenty, desperate and reckless, I hunted monkeys in the forests of Congo.

Every morning for many decades, I would wake up early and prepare Laksa soup to sell at the market in Kuantan, Malaysia. Over the years, I perfected the national dish and had many satisfied customers.

Even as a child, I realized that I didn't feel like a boy or a girl. It was something in between, but I couldn't clearly define it back then. Later, at school, I was often put down because of my feminine appearance.

This morning, I woke up to the familiar sound of my cat, Míša, pawing at the bedroom door. After my routine coffee, I sat down at my desk in my Prague apartment, ready to dive into the novel I’m currently translating.

This morning, I sat quietly in my study, the soft glow of the early sun filtering through the stained glass windows. The church has always been my sanctuary, a place of solace and reflection.

Navigating the bustling streets of Mumbai, I often reflect on how different life is here compared to Palitana, my hometown. Growing up in Palitana, known as the world's most vegetarian city, was an experience steeped in the principles of Jainism.

At 35 years old, I felt the accumulated toll of years in the ring as I swung my legs out of bed. Our modest apartment in Almaty, Kazakhstan, was bathed in the early morning quiet, the city slowly coming to life outside.

Yesterday morning, I found myself stuck in traffic on my way to an interview in Valletta. The roads, once serene, are now choked with cars, a symbol of Malta’s economic upswing.

As I push open the door to our spacious apartment in Qingdao, China, a wave of exhaustion washes over me, dragging along the weight of the day's shoot.

I'm originally from Chicago, but the milder temperatures brought me to California. For the past six years, I've been living on the streets of San Francisco. It's hard and dangerous out here, only the strongest survive.

I had to think again recently about an experience that took place a long time ago at the Office for the Protection of Historical Monuments in Rome, Italy. I worked there for 40 years as a clerk, but this story happened only once. Fortunately.

In the quiet hills of Kyrgyzstan, I've spent a lifetime toiling in the fields, the earth beneath my hands a constant companion. Now, at 87 years old, I look back on those years with a mixture of pride and sadness.

Last weekend, my friends pulled off a surprise party for my 18th birthday. They lured me to a local café in Vienna, Austria, under the guise of a study session, but when I walked in, they all jumped out yelling, "Surprise!"

A few days ago, I was in one of the more challenging parts of the suburb where I work. As a social worker in Lima, I am committed to supporting the poor and needy and am confronted daily with extreme social inequalities and complex ethnic conflicts.

Yesterday was a strange day. After months of odd symptoms, I finally got a diagnosis: lung cancer. Sitting in the sterile office, the doctor’s words echoed in my mind, bringing a bizarre sense of relief.

Yesterday was one of those days that left me reflecting deeply. It started like any other day in the life of a medical student here in Shanghai, China, with an early morning lecture on anatomy.

In Dhaka, Bangladesh, where I call home, every day feels like a battle in the aluminum factory. For two long months now, at the age of nine, I've been toiling away for twelve hours a day.