anass ammour
Stories (3)
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Whispering Valley
In the heart of Aethelburg, a city made of steel, glass, and the quiet hum of electronics, lived Lyra. Her world was clean, calibrated, controlled. The air in her apartment carried the scent of synthetic pine—pleasant, but soulless. The lighting? Perfectly tuned, like everything else. And through her window, the transport pods danced between the towers like fireflies under strict command.
By anass ammour7 months ago in Earth
The Soil and the Silver
It was 1992, and seventeen-year-old Tariq’s world smelled like mint tea, warm dust, and the sweet rot of overripe oranges in his family's little orchard. His village, tucked away in the dry hills of a country few people outside had ever heard of, ran on stories. The old men told them in the shade, the women wove them into rugs, and everyone said Tariq had a gift — he remembered them all.
By anass ammour7 months ago in History
aura's of emotions
Elara never expected the color to disappear from her life. Though she had more talent than fame, she used to fill her canvases with vivid, imagined landscapes. But now, in the neon-lit streets of Neo-Kyoto, where rain slid down holographic ads and the air always buzzed with electric glow, everything looked gray. Her tiny apartment mirrored that emptiness. The canvases leaned blank against the walls, waiting for inspiration that wouldn’t come.
By anass ammour7 months ago in Art
