Habibullah
Bio
Storyteller of worlds seen & unseen ✨ From real-life moments to pure imagination, I share tales that spark thought, wonder, and smiles daily
Stories (141)
Filter by community
Father Figure I Never Expected
1. The First Punch I found Mac’s Gym because it smelled like my father. Liniment, sweat, and something bitter underneath—like old rage. I was fourteen, knuckles split from punching my bedroom wall after Dad’s latest "discipline session."
By Habibullah5 months ago in Confessions
The Father Figure I Never Expected
1. The First Punch I found Mac’s Gym because it smelled like my father. Liniment, sweat, and something bitter underneath—like old rage. I was fourteen, knuckles split from punching my bedroom wall after Dad’s latest "discipline session."
By Habibullah5 months ago in Fiction
How Google Maps Saved My Life in the Middle of Nowhere
1. The Crash That Wasn’t an Accident The tire blew at 80 mph. Not worn tread—a bullet. Maya’s rental Jeep fishtailed off Route 66, tumbling down a ravine. When the world stopped spinning, she tasted blood and gasoline. The dashboard clock blinked 3:33 AM. Outside: endless Mojave blackness.
By Habibullah5 months ago in Fiction
I Followed a Strange Trail on Google Maps – What I Found Shocked Me
1. The Glitch That Changed Everything Maya Chen’s life was measured in pixels. As a satellite imagery analyst for TerraGlobal, her job was to spot discrepancies in digital maps. But when a jagged green trail appeared overnight on Google Maps—snaking through downtown Seattle where no park existed—even she dismissed it as a glitch.
By Habibullah6 months ago in Fiction
The Day Google Maps Led Me to a Place That Doesn’t Exist
1. The Wrong Turn That Changed Everything Maya hated driving to new clients. That’s why she trusted Google Maps. But when the robotic voice chirped "Turn left onto Memory Lane" in the middle of rural Vermont farm country, she knew something was wrong.
By Habibullah6 months ago in Fiction
The Umbrella Without Rain
Part 1: The Inheritance of Dry Tears The umbrella arrived the day Elara’s grandmother vanished. Not died—vanished. One moment, Nana Rosa sat knitting beneath her favorite pear tree; the next, only her indigo shawl remained, wrapped around a long velvet box.
By Habibullah6 months ago in Fiction
