
Imran Khan
Bio
I am a passionate writer, meticulous editor, and creative designer. With a keen eye for detail and a love for storytelling, Me bring words and visuals together to create compelling narratives and striking designs.
Stories (14)
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The Sound Beneath the Floor
When Lily Carter moved into 47 Pine Hollow Road, all she wanted was silence. After the burnout of big city journalism, the breakup, and a stress-induced panic attack in a supermarket, she needed space to breathe. The rental ad had promised: "Cozy, quiet, secluded — perfect for writing or resting."
By Imran Khan8 months ago in Fiction
The Last Cup of Tea
Mara hadn’t been home in twelve years. The house on Alder Street still smelled faintly of jasmine and dust. The garden was overgrown now, ivy curling over the windows, roses tangled in thorn. But the same porcelain wind chime hung by the door—tiny white cranes forever caught in flight.
By Imran Khan8 months ago in Art
The Lantern Keeper
The sea had taken her husband, and still, Eleanor lit the lantern every night. The old lighthouse on Stonewake Cliff had stood for over a hundred years, its beam sweeping the dark like a sentinel. Its gears groaned and its bricks wore salt like old wounds, but it had never gone dark. Not once. Not even now, in 1941, with war howling across Europe and the Channel full of ghosts.
By Imran Khan8 months ago in Psyche
Whispers of the Wild
The trees were older than memory, older than names. Some leaned with the wisdom of centuries, bark split like cracked leather, moss softening their bones. Deep in the Northern Glen, where no paths were marked and no maps reached, the forest lived as it had long before humans walked beneath its boughs.
By Imran Khan8 months ago in Journal
The Last Lightkeeper
The wind carried salt and silence to the cliffs of Wraithmoor. For over a century, the lighthouse had stood like a spine against the ocean, casting its beam through fog and storm. Now, it was obsolete—a relic from a time before satellites, drones, and automated beacons. But there was still one man inside it.
By Imran Khan8 months ago in Art
The Moon Below the Mountain
Long ago, the skies trembled under the wings of dragons. They were not monsters. They were wisdom and fire, protectors of balance, and the heartbeat of magic in the world. Beside them stood the Dragon Keepers, chosen souls who spoke the language of flame and understood the pulse of the wild.
By Imran Khan9 months ago in Education
The Last Dragon Keeper
The wind howled through the frostbitten peaks of the Eldyr Mountains as the girl climbed higher, her cloak snapping like wings behind her. She had no map, no guide, only the pendant around her neck—a tiny dragon scale glowing with emberlight—and the stories her grandmother once whispered by candlelight.
By Imran Khan9 months ago in Psyche
The King and the Beggar
In a grand kingdom nestled between snow-tipped mountains and silver rivers, there lived a king named Aurelius. His palace gleamed with gold, his halls echoed with music, and his every word was law. The people feared him, some admired him, but very few truly knew him.
By Imran Khan9 months ago in Earth











