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)
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The Princess Who Walked on the Moon
Princess Elara’s world was a gilded cage. Her life was a meticulously scheduled tapestry of state dinners, embroidery lessons, and waving from balconies. Her kingdom was a beautiful, smothering jewel, and she was its most prized possession, locked safely inside. Her only escape was the royal observatory, where she would chart the constellations and dream of the one place her royal guards could not follow: the Moon.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
Moonlight for the Homeless
The city was a machine of forgetting. It forgot the names of the people who slept in its doorways, it forgot the faces huddled under its bridges. Kael was one of the forgotten. His world was a tapestry of cold concrete, harsh lights, and the averted gazes of a thousand strangers.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Door That Wasn't a Door
The key to the thirteenth floor was heavier than the others. It was an old, skeleton-key thing, iron and tarnished, attached to my janitorial ring with a separate, sturdy chain. My boss, a man named Mr. Henderson who smelled of stale coffee and resignation, had handed it to me on my first night with one instruction: “Sweep the hall. Do not, under any circumstances, open any of the doors. Especially not 13A. The locksmith is coming next week to change the lot.”
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Moon That Cried Silver Tears
The people of the world first noticed it during the great drought. The skies had been relentlessly clear for months, and the land was parched to dust. One night, a new star appeared, trailing a faint, silvery light. But it wasn't a star. It was a tear.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Captured the Moon in a Jar
Leo was a boy who loved the moon with a desperate, possessive love. Every night, he’d press his face against his bedroom window, watching it sail through the clouds, a perfect silver coin. He hated that he had to share it with the whole world. He hated that it always, eventually, slipped away.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
Moon’s Gift to the Blind Girl
Elara’s world was not dark. People called her blind, but that was their word, born from their own fear of the absence of light. Her world was built of sound and scent and texture. The rough bark of the old oak was a story of strength. The scent of rain on dry earth was a complex symphony. But the one thing that remained an abstract concept was the Moon.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
The Moon That Chased the Sun
For eons, their dance was the clockwork of the universe. The Sun was a king of fierce, glorious light, painting the world in bold strokes of gold and blue. The Moon was his quiet queen, softening his harsh edges with her gentle silver, weaving dreams into the night. But they were never together. The cosmos, in its infinite wisdom, had decreed they must forever be apart, their love a constant, heartbreaking near-miss.
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
A Message Written in Moon Dust
Dr. Aris Thorne was a geologist, a woman of rock and reason. The first human mission to the lunar farside was her life's work. As her lander settled into the dust of the Mendeleev Basin, a place of eternal Earth-shadow, her heart beat with a purely scientific thrill. She was here to read the moon's oldest stories, written in stone.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Cracked Piece of Moon
It fell on the night the sky wept silver. A meteor shower, the elders called it. But to a young, orphaned girl named Lyra, it was the night a star fell into the woods behind her village. While others stayed indoors, she followed the trail of fading light.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Wolf Who Howled to the Moon
Kael was a wolf apart. While his pack communicated in practical snarls and yips—warnings of danger, calls to hunt, signals to rest—Kael was possessed by a different kind of sound. When the full moon rose, vast and silver, he would climb to the highest cliff, tilt his head back, and pour his soul into the night.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Moon and the Fisherman’s Promise
Old Man Kael was a fixture of the coastal village, as permanent as the cliffs and as solitary as the lighthouse. For fifty years, he had done the same thing on the night of the full moon. While others slept, he would push his small, wooden skiff into the black water and row. He wouldn't cast his nets. He would simply row to the same spot, far from shore, where the world was reduced to water and sky.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
Moonlight Over the Broken Village
The war had ended, but the silence it left behind was a different kind of weapon. The village of Oakhaven was a skeleton of its former self. Houses were scorched shells, the old stone bridge lay in the river like a broken spine, and the hearts of the people were as shattered as the windows they once looked through.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
