Mehwish Jabeen

Joined December 2025

24 stories

Stories (24)

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The Distance Between Seasons. AI-Generated.
The first thing Sara noticed when she returned was how the air felt heavier. Not warmer or colder—just fuller, as if the town had been holding its breath while she was gone and hadn’t yet decided whether to release it.
By Mehwish Jabeen25 days ago in Fiction
Frozen Walk. AI-Generated.
Morning arrives without sound, as if the world agreed to begin quietly. The cold tightens everything it touches— roads, branches, thoughts—
By Mehwish Jabeen25 days ago in Poets
What the Quiet Keeps. AI-Generated.
The town grew quieter every winter, not suddenly, but the way a room changes when people stop talking one by one. Shops closed earlier. Streets emptied faster. Even the river seemed to move with less urgency, sliding beneath ice instead of rushing against its banks.
By Mehwish Jabeen25 days ago in Fiction
Instructions for Assembly. AI-Generated.
1 Begin with a room that has no defining features. Do not describe the walls. Do not describe the light. Place a table at the center.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Fiction
The Shape of What Stayed. AI-Generated.
I fell in love with Mara before I knew what she was. That part matters, because love has rules, and horror breaks them.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Fiction
Notice to the Public. AI-Generated.
This is an official announcement. Please read carefully. Effective immediately, the heart will be closed for maintenance.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Poets
Nothing But Voices. AI-Generated.
“Are you sure this is the right day?” “You’ve asked that three times already.” “I know, but the letter didn’t sound certain.”
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Fiction
Small Heat. AI-Generated.
Winter compresses the world. It presses inward on everything—days, spaces, breath. The cold sharpens attention, forcing us to notice what we usually overlook. In winter, nothing is casual. Every movement has intention. Every source of warmth feels earned.
By Mehwish Jabeen26 days ago in Poets
The Last Flame. AI-Generated.
I sit beside the fire as it begins to fade. The flames are smaller now, less eager, moving as if they understand this moment is final.
By Mehwish Jabeen27 days ago in Poets
The Ritual of Winter. AI-Generated.
Winter does not arrive all at once. It settles in gradually, almost politely, as if asking permission before it takes up space. The days shorten by minutes we barely notice. The air grows sharper, the light thinner. Eventually, one morning, the world feels different. The season has arrived, not with ceremony, but with certainty.
By Mehwish Jabeen27 days ago in Humans
Not Every Season Is Meant to Be Loud. AI-Generated.
December has a way of arriving before we’re ready for it. Thanksgiving barely clears the table before the world shifts gears. Store windows glow with decorations. Sale signs appear overnight. Holiday music fills the air as if flipped on by a single switch. The season doesn’t ease in—it rushes forward, loud and confident, demanding attention.
By Mehwish Jabeen28 days ago in Motivation
Not Every Season Is Meant to Be Loud. AI-Generated.
December has a way of arriving before we’re ready for it. Thanksgiving barely clears the table before the world shifts gears. Store windows glow with decorations. Sale signs appear overnight. Holiday music fills the air as if flipped on by a single switch. The season doesn’t ease in—it rushes forward, loud and confident, demanding attention.
By Mehwish Jabeen29 days ago in Motivation