Mahboob Khan
Bio
I’m a writer driven by curiosity, emotion, and the endless possibilities of storytelling. My work explores the crossroads where reality meets imagination — from futuristic sci-fi worlds shaped by technology to deeply emotional fiction.
Stories (14)
Filter by community
Whispers Beneath the Old Oak
The old oak tree had been standing in the town square for generations. People carved their names into its bark, lovers left promises beneath its branches, children played in its shade. For Lily, it wasn’t just a tree—it was where she had met James, one warm summer afternoon ten years ago.
By Mahboob Khan4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter in the Drawer
Emma never thought love would come quietly. She used to imagine it would be loud, like fireworks, or at least dramatic enough to sweep her off her feet. But the evening she met Daniel, there were no fireworks. Just a bookstore, the smell of old paper, and a stranger with kind eyes who asked if she had ever read the novel he was holding.
By Mahboob Khan4 months ago in Fiction
The Cup Was Still Warm
The Cup Was Still Warm By Mahboob Khan Sundays always felt too quiet after Adam left. It wasn’t that he slammed the door or made a scene. Adam was the kind of man who left like morning mist — quietly, slowly, until you weren’t sure he’d ever been there at all. And this time, he hadn’t even said goodbye.
By Mahboob Khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Last Song She Played
The Last Song She Played By Mahboob Khan The record player clicked softly. A few dust motes danced in the sunlight filtering through the old curtains. Daniel stood still, clutching the faded vinyl cover like it was something sacred. It had been her favorite — Chopin’s Nocturne in E-flat major.
By Mahboob Khan6 months ago in Fiction
Where We Left the Watch
Where We Left the Watch By Mahboob Khan It started with a coincidence. Three years ago, I was digging through a box of old postcards at the Sunday flea market when a girl leaned over, picked one up, and said, “You’re holding the best one.”
By Mahboob Khan7 months ago in Fiction
We Never Said 'I Love You'
We Never Said ‘I Love You’ By Mahboob Khan We met in October, the kind of cold that makes your fingers hurt and your thoughts feel heavier. She was standing under a bus stop with a broken umbrella, fighting the wind like it was personal. I had a better one — barely — and I offered to share it. She rolled her eyes but stepped under anyway.
By Mahboob Khan7 months ago in Fiction
The Morning After the Last Goodbye
The Morning After the Last Goodbye By Mahboob Khan I woke up to a silence that felt more final than any shout could ever be. The apartment was dark, save for the weak pre-dawn glow slicing through the curtains. I lay in bed, still tangled in the sheets we once shared, wondering if I had done something wrong or if it was just time. Last night’s conversation replayed in my head like a broken record—a conversation where words had been left unsaid, scattered in the space between our hearts.
By Mahboob Khan7 months ago in Fiction
