Leyvel Writes
Bio
Hello,
I am a writer, a dreamer, and a storyteller with faith in the strength of stories. I post real-life moments designed to inspire, touch, and start conversation. Ride with me one story at a time.
Stories (10)
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Three Left in the Cabin
The first snow of December had barely begun blanketing the peaceful town of Ashford, Maine, when Evelyn Ross took her SUV down Sycamore Road. The tall stand of pine trees and the rolling fog rendered the old cabin nearly invisible until she was almost directly above it.
By Leyvel Writes4 months ago in Fiction
Whispers Between Dawn and Dust
Sometimes life teaches us gently and not loudly. I wrote this poem on a quiet morning when the world hung between what had been done and what was only unfolding. It's about clinging to hope, letting go of the baggage we no longer bear, and learning to honour the frail beauty of now. And in that quiet space of calm, we discover that the small lessons are the deepest.
By Leyvel Writes4 months ago in Poets
The Blood Moon Messenger
The blood moon evening drew the masses to the roofs and open fields. Families laid down blankets on grasslands, children pointed with wonder, and phones everywhere tried to trap the red light of the moon into wobbly snaps. Most came in the spirit of laughter, snacks, and amazement. But for Selena Marlowe, the withdrawn archivist of the city library, the evening held a completely different meaning.
By Leyvel Writes4 months ago in Fiction
The Day I Let Silence Speak for Me
I've been carrying around this weight for years, yet it would never come to anyone who knows me. To them, I seem to have built a good life — a good job, nice smiles, an apartment full of plants that I sometimes forget to water. It all appears to be in its place on the outside. But order is a dream. Inside, I coexist with one moment of chaos. A moment when I should have spoken and didn't. A moment that echoed in my head so often, it's as if my silence is louder than all words I could have said.This is my transgression: I ruined the good that came to me by letting silence speak for me.
By Leyvel Writes4 months ago in Humans
The Last Radio Signal
Amara's nights never stopped until dawn. While the rest of her classmates at the university slumbered through the night in dormitories, she sat in the observatory, headphones stretched tight, eyes on the rows of data inching across her screens. She wasn't scanning for meteors, or for the faint glow of distant galaxies. Amara was listening.
By Leyvel Writes4 months ago in Fiction
Whispers Between Two Worlds
Amara was used to silence. The kind of weighty, clean, weary silence that filled the morning hospital corridors. She clocked off at the end of a twelve-hour night shift and plodded home in tired feet and hazy mind. The city barely began to stir: public transport blasted angrily, shutters were pulled up by shopkeepers, and a foggy softness clung to the streets.
By Leyvel Writes4 months ago in Humans
