HAADI

Joined November 2025

349 stories

Bio

Dark Side Of Our Society

Stories (349)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

The Architect of Silence. AI-Generated.
In a city that never slept, a city of roaring engines, blaring horns, and the constant, low-grade hum of a million digital lives, there was a man who sold silence. His name was Arthur, and he was the Architect of Silence.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Mender of Broken Things. AI-Generated.
In a small, dusty shop tucked away on a quiet street, there lived an old man named Felix. The sign above his door read simply, "Mender of Things," and it was a title he took with profound seriousness. People brought him their broken treasures: clocks that had forgotten how to tick, music boxes that had lost their song, toys that had been loved into disrepair.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Sundial of Second Chances. AI-Generated.
In the forgotten corner of the city's oldest botanical garden stood a sundial that no one understood. Its Latin motto was worn smooth, but if one could read it, it would say: "I do not show the hour, but the opportunity."
By HAADI2 months ago in Earth
The Cartographer of Forgotten Places. AI-Generated.
In a world of GPS and satellite imagery, Elara’s profession was considered obsolete. She was a cartographer, but her maps were useless for navigation. They were not of the world as it was, but as it had been felt. She was the Cartographer of Forgotten Places.
By HAADI2 months ago in Earth
The Keeper of Lost Causes. AI-Generated.
In a quiet alley, tucked between a bakery and a laundromat, there was a shop that didn't appear on any map. Its window was dusty, and its sign, which read "Pennyworth's Sanctuary," was so faded it was almost illegible. Inside was a chaos of quiet potential. This was not a shop for antiques, but for antiques of the future—a shelter for lost causes.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Undertaker for Memories. AI-Generated.
Most people sought to preserve their past. They filled photo albums, scrapbooks, and digital clouds with captured moments. Silas worked in the opposite trade. He was an undertaker, not for bodies, but for memories.
By HAADI2 months ago in Earth
The Last Postman of the Void. AI-Generated.
The title was official: Interstellar Communications Officer, Grade 4. Everyone else called him the Postman. His name was Kaelen, and his ship, the Distant Echo, was the smallest and oldest vessel in the Fleet. While admirals commanded dreadnoughts and scientists studied nebulae, Kaelen’s duty was simpler, and infinitely heavier.
By HAADI2 months ago in Earth
The Watchmaker's Final Ticking. AI-Generated.
The bell above the door of "Chronos & Son" didn't just tinkle; it chimed with the precise, melancholic tone of a clock striking the hour in a forgotten century. Inside was a labyrinth of time. Grandfather clocks stood like silent sentinels, their pendulums still. Shelves were crammed with carriage clocks, cuckoo clocks, and wristwatches, all frozen in a perpetual state of "almost working."
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Symphony of Silence. AI-Generated.
We live in a world wired for sound. The digital hum of screens, the relentless ping of notifications, the curated cacophony of playlists and podcasts—it’s a constant, roaring river of noise. Most people learn to swim in it, to let it carry them through their days.
By HAADI2 months ago in Education
The Keeper of Lost Things. AI-Generated.
bell above the door of "Elara's Ephemera" didn't just signal a customer; it The announced a new arrival. Elara wasn't just the proprietor of the dusty antique shop, she was its curator and confessor. She didn't just sell old things; she cared for them. And more importantly, she listened to them.
By HAADI2 months ago in Earth
The Chronos Bank. AI-Generated.
The slogan was everywhere, sleek and irresistible: Time is Money. Finally, yours to exchange. The Chronos Bank had revolutionized the global economy. Why wait for a paycheck when you could monetize your own future? A down payment on a dream house? A life-saving surgery for a loved one? A semester of tuition? The solution was as simple as a finger-prick and a signature.
By HAADI2 months ago in Motivation
The Inheritance of Rage. AI-Generated.
The air in the old house was thick with the smell of lemon polish and unspoken grievances. Arthur Finch was dead, and his three children had gathered in the mausoleum of his wealth to perform the final, familiar ritual: the war of inheritance.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families