Moonlit Letters
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Where the Birds Waited for Her
Where the Birds Waited for Her Written by Shah Zeb Every morning at 6:45 AM sharp, Eleanor stepped onto her small balcony with a cracked ceramic bowl full of seeds. Her balcony overlooked the modest garden she tended to herself, a little square of green in an otherwise graying suburban neighborhood. A line of small wooden birdhouses hung from the awning above, painted in pale blues and gentle pastels. They looked like a row of forgotten memories, faded but tender.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Sat in Silence for 10 Years
The Man Who Sat in Silence for 10 Years Written by Raza Iqbal In the small village of Bramble Hollow, nestled between misty hills and forgotten trails, there lived a man named Elias Wren. No one had heard his voice in ten years. Not even a whisper.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
The House That Waited for Her
The House That Waited for Her Written by Mirza The house sat at the edge of a forgotten road, with white paint peeling like old memories and vines growing over the porch railings like stubborn thoughts no one had trimmed back. For forty years, it had waited — quietly, patiently — for her to return.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse Keeper’s Journal
The Lighthouse Keeper’s Journal Written by Shah Zeb The lighthouse stood like a forgotten relic at the edge of the world. Perched high on the weather-beaten cliffs of the Scottish coast, it had long ceased to guide ships. Satellite navigation and modern systems had made it obsolete. Yet inside its stone shell, the light still turned, maintained by one man whose presence was as old and steady as the sea spray.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
The Library of Forgotten Names
The Library of Forgotten Names Written by Raza Iqbal The building had no sign. Tucked between a shuttered bakery and an abandoned tailor shop in a quiet corner of Bruges, the heavy oak door didn’t creak when opened—it sighed, like someone waking up from a long sleep. Emilia Laurent stood on the cobblestone threshold, a letter trembling in her hand. The letter had come without return address, sealed with wax bearing the insignia of an hourglass wrapped in ivy.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
One Last Ride: The Taxi Driver’s Secret
One Last Ride: The Taxi Driver’s Secret Written by Mirza Nobody knew his full name—everyone just called him “Baba Taxi.” For more than thirty years, Baba Taxi drove the streets of Lahore, weaving through its dust, chaos, and colors. His old yellow-and-black cab was a familiar sight—scratched, dented, but somehow proud. His back slightly hunched, white beard trimmed, and smile always kind, Baba was the silent companion of countless passengers.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
The Birthday Gift She Left for Every Year After Her Death
The Birthday Gift She Left for Every Year After Her Death Written by Mirza Written by Mirza My mother passed away on a cold Tuesday morning in November—two days before my 17th birthday. She was 48. It was breast cancer. She fought like hell. And then one day, the fight was over.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
He Carved Her Name Into the Tree Every Year
He Carved Her Name Into the Tree Every Year Written by Mirza Each autumn, when the leaves began toHe Carved Her Name Into the Tree Every fall like fireflakes from the sky, an old man with a slow gait and gentle eyes would walk the narrow path beside Silverlake. He always carried the same worn satchel, a blanket tucked inside, and a rusted pocketknife older than many of the trees lining the path.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
The Girl at Platform Nine
The Girl at Platform Nine Written by Javeed 🚉 Prologue: A Glimpse in the Fog Platform Nine at the old city station was quieter than usual. The mist curled through the iron beams and drifted low around the benches, wrapping everything in a sleepy gray veil. Most people passed by without noticing the girl sitting alone at the far end. But I did.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
He Died 8 Years Ago. Then He Left a Voicemail
He Died 8 Years Ago. Then He Left a Voicemail Written by Iqbal Raza It started with a notification. Lena was in the middle of folding laundry when her phone buzzed. A voicemail. That wasn’t unusual — except this one was from a number she hadn’t seen in years. A number she had deleted, blocked, and buried with the man who once owned it.
By Moonlit Letters6 months ago in Fiction
