Muhammad Mehran
Stories (210)
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The House That Waited
M Mehran On the outskirts of town, beyond the crooked oak trees and the overgrown path, stood a house no one claimed. Its paint peeled, windows sagged, and yet every night, one upstairs light glowed as though someone were still waiting inside.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Fiction
The Teacher Who Collected Stars
M Mehran Most people thought Mr. Hale was an ordinary teacher. He wore the same brown jacket every day, carried a stack of papers tucked under his arm, and taught literature to restless high school juniors who rarely listened.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Education
The Library of Forgotten Names
M Mehran It wasn’t on any map, nor marked by any sign. But if you ever lost something precious—so precious that the ache of it followed you like a shadow—you might find yourself wandering a narrow street one evening and stopping before a tall, ivy-covered building you had never noticed before.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Fiction
A Journey in Photography
M Mehran Photography has always been more than a hobby for me. It is a way of seeing the world, of capturing fleeting moments that often go unnoticed. It is a language without words, a medium where silence speaks louder than sound, and light paints stories more vividly than memory ever could.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Photography
Whispers of the Swamp
M Mehran The swamp had always been a place of caution. My grandparents warned me never to wander there after dusk. They spoke of thick fogs, hidden pits, and the strange calls of creatures that no one could name. I thought it was just stories—until the night I ventured in myself.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in The Swamp
The Secret Keepers
M Mehran I discovered journals when I was twelve. My mother handed me a small leather-bound notebook and said, “Write down what you feel. Someday, you’ll thank yourself.” At the time, I thought she was giving me a book for school, not a portal into my own mind.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Journal
The House at Raven’s Hollow
M Mehran No one in our town went near the house at Raven’s Hollow after sunset. They said it was cursed, that shadows moved inside its walls even on the brightest days. I had always laughed at such tales—until the night I dared to enter.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Horror
The Story of Life
M Mehran Life is a book, and each day is a page. Some days are footnotes, barely noticed; others are bold paragraphs that leave marks we never forget. We live in chapters—some we write ourselves, others that arrive uninvited. And yet, every chapter matters.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Chapters
