Javid khan
Bio
Stories (11)
Filter by community
The Last Diner
I glanced at my phone's navigation, grateful for the heads-up. I'd been driving for six hours straight, and my back was screaming for a break. The coffee I'd grabbed at that truck stop near Denver had long since worn off, leaving me with that familiar highway hypnosis that comes from staring at endless asphalt.
By Javid khan5 months ago in Feast
When Nobody Sees
It started like most things do these days—in the middle of something ordinary. I was getting bread. The soft kind, not seeded, because my husband complains it gets stuck in his teeth. I usually go early to avoid the crowd, but that morning I’d lingered. The tomatoes were good. And there was a clearance trolley near the freezer aisle—always worth a peek.
By Javid khan6 months ago in Confessions
When the Moon Forgot Her Name
They say the Moon forgot her name the night the sky broke open. It was quiet—as all important things are. No thunder. No fire. Just a soft stillness that fell across the universe like sleep. The stars blinked slower. The planets held their breath. And the moon… the moon simply paused.
By Javid khan7 months ago in Fiction
The Things We Bury in the Wind
I came back because the wind wouldn’t stop whispering his name. It happens like this sometimes. A certain kind of dusk, the way shadows crawl through wheat fields, or the scent of rust and lilacs in the same breath—and suddenly, it’s all there again.
By Javid khan7 months ago in Fiction
