Momin Shah
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Stories (16)
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The Unseen Architects
It starts subtly, almost imperceptibly. You open your social media app, and there it is: a perfectly curated feed of posts, news articles, and advertisements that seem to know you better than you know yourself. Later, you switch on a streaming service, and it suggests a movie that aligns precisely with your obscure taste in indie documentaries. You search for a product online, and for weeks, ads for similar items follow you across every website. This isn't magic; it's the invisible hand of algorithms at work, silently shaping our perceptions, influencing our choices, and, increasingly, defining our reality.
By Momin Shah6 months ago in Art
The Architect of Earth
Leo Maxwell designed steel and glass. For twenty-five years, his hands, once agile and dreaming of organic forms, had shaped skyscrapers that pierced city skies, their sleek facades reflecting an ambition that no longer felt like his own. He was good at it, exceptionally so. His name appeared in glossy architecture magazines, his firm won bids, and his apartment overlooked a vast, glittering expanse of urban sprawl – a monument to his meticulous, yet increasingly soul-crushing, work.
By Momin Shah6 months ago in Earth
The Unfurling of Agnes
With the faint, nearly undetectable rustle of old paper, Agnes Periwinkle went about her day. The Municipal Archive, a vast maze of lost histories, dust motes dancing in the few shafts of sunlight, and the reassuring smell of lignin and ageing parchment were the quiet, climate-controlled hallways where her days unfolded. Agnes had been its silent keeper for thirty-seven years, a human catalogue among the millions of old maps, old papers, and old photos.
By Momin Shah7 months ago in Fiction
The Ballad of Elara Vance
Elara Vance didn't have a golden keyboard or a silver spoon from birth. She was born with a laptop held together by prayer and sheer effort, a restless mind full of stories, and a burning passion to write. Her words had been hidden away in her personal journals for years, whispered secrets between her and the rumpled pages. It was thrilling, horrifying, and completely vulnerable to think of sharing them with the world. It was like stripping nude in Times Square.
By Momin Shah7 months ago in Art
