Emad Beshay
Bio
Emad Beshay is a filmmaker and storyteller passionate about crafting narratives on human connection and resilience. With a background in independent films, documentaries, and innovative projects, he creates stories to inspire and captivate.
Stories (4)
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A Night at the City
The City in Flux The city looms around him, an ever-changing labyrinth of progress and decay. He walks with measured steps, phone pressed to his ear, his voice calm yet introspective. "Everything has shifted. The streets are unrecognizable, a mosaic of past and present colliding. The people—once familiar—now seem detached, engrossed in their own fragmented realities." Priorities have shifted so drastically that what once seemed permanent now feels outdated, and things that barely mattered before have become everything. His gaze sweeps across the cityscape with passive detachment, absorbing its transformations without any desire to decipher their meaning. An absurd anomaly—a llama navigating the urban sprawl—enters his periphery, yet elicits no more than a passing acknowledgment. It is as if the city itself is playing a joke on him, daring him to react.
By Emad Beshay11 months ago in Fiction
The Dance of Time
Everything begins with mornings... except for that night, which defied all routines. It felt as if the night itself refused to wait for dawn, unraveling mysteries and questions that couldn't rest. Morning arrived much earlier, with birds restlessly conversing in the dark. Their voices, like scattered notes, resonated with the storm in my mind—doubts and unresolved thoughts swirling relentlessly. Yet, as I listened, those tones became soothing, each like a piano note offering a fragment of clarity. Some notes were confused, others searching, striving to create harmony from life's chaotic entries.
By Emad Beshayabout a year ago in Psyche
Two Strangers in a Café
The morning began with the familiar weight of routine. The distant hum of traffic seeped through the walls of my suburban home, a muted reminder of the world outside. In the backyard, the leaves stirred faintly in the southern breeze, their rustling a soft cadence against the stillness. It was a day like any other, yet it carried an undercurrent I couldn’t name.
By Emad Beshayabout a year ago in Humans
