Francisca

Joined August 2024

125 stories

Bio

Hi everyone my name is Francisca i am a writer and also I also love cooking.With a passion for exploring the complexities of life through fiction,I bring characters to life in a way that feels both relatable and profound.

Stories (125)

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The silent beacon
In the far reaches of the northern sea, there stood an ancient lighthouse on the edge of a rocky island, known to sailors as The Silent Beacon. For over a century, it had guided ships through treacherous waters with its steady, reliable light. But it was called "silent" not because of the absence of sound, but because no one had ever seen or heard from the keeper who lived inside.
By Francisca about a year ago in Fiction
The midnight painter
In the quiet town of Harrow's End, there lived a man named Walter Gaines. Walter was an eccentric, reclusive artist known only for the strange, vibrant paintings that appeared in the town square every morning. No one ever saw him at work, and no one knew where he lived, but his art captivated the townspeople, filling them with wonder and sometimes unease.
By Francisca about a year ago in Fiction
The visitor
Laura had always loved the old house. It sat at the edge of the small town, surrounded by thick woods, its walls covered in ivy that had grown unchecked for years. The house had been in her family for generations, a place filled with memories and stories passed down like heirlooms.
By Francisca about a year ago in Fiction
The keepsake
It was early morning when the package arrived. Evelyn found it on her doorstep, nestled between the milk bottles and the newspaper. She picked it up, surprised by its weight. There was no return address, just her name scrawled in neat, careful handwriting.
By Francisca about a year ago in Confessions
The last train
**The Last Train** Lena stood on the platform, her breath clouding in the frigid night air. The station was eerily quiet, except for the occasional flutter of a newspaper caught in the wind. She glanced at the clock hanging above her: 11:43 PM. The last train was due any moment, yet the station felt deserted, as if she were the only person left in the world.
By Francisca about a year ago in Fiction

Francisca

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The silent beacon

The midnight painter

The visitor

The keepsake

The last train

Stories (125)