Muhammad Mehran
Stories (210)
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Chapters of Life
M Mehran In the small town of Willowbrook, life moved slowly. People measured time not by clocks, but by the chapters of their own lives. Every home, every street, every shop carried memories, beginnings, and endings like invisible bookmarks in a book.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Chapters
The Midnight Heist of Riverside Lane
M Mehran Riverside Lane had always been quiet, almost painfully so. Rows of brick houses, neatly trimmed hedges, and the soft hum of streetlights gave the illusion of safety. But beneath the calm surface, the neighborhood had a secret: for weeks, residents had been reporting missing items—small things at first, then more valuable: jewelry, electronics, even cash.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Criminal
The House on Harbor Street
M Mehran No one on Harbor Street liked to talk about the gray house at the corner. Its windows were always shuttered, the garden overrun with ivy, and the gate leaned as if it might collapse under its own rust. Children dared each other to touch the front steps, but few stayed long. The house had been empty for years—or so everyone thought.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Fiction
The Day the Earth Spoke
M Mehran It began quietly. No earthquakes, no storms, no sudden fire in the sky. Just a sound, deep and low, that rippled beneath the feet of every person across the world. At first, people thought it was construction, or thunder rolling in from some unseen storm. But when it continued for minutes, then hours, scientists confirmed what no one wanted to believe.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Earth
The Case of the Vanishing Briefcase
M Mehran Okulmide was not the sort of detective who filled out paperwork quietly behind a desk. In Lagos, where the air hummed with traffic, markets, and secrets traded in alleyways, his reputation had grown: sharp eyes, sharper instincts, and a stubbornness that made criminals nervous.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Criminal
The Poet’s Bench
M Mehran In the heart of Willowbrook Park, near the old fountain where children still tossed pennies for wishes, stood a weathered wooden bench. Its paint had long since faded to a pale gray, and the carved initials of decades of young lovers ran across it like secret graffiti. Yet, in the evenings, the bench came alive with words.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Poets
The Lantern in the River
M Mehran In the quiet town of Bellmere, where the river curled like a silver ribbon through the valley, people whispered about the Lantern. No one quite remembered how the tale began. Some said it was a fisherman’s trick of light, others swore it was the ghost of a woman waiting for someone who never came home. Whatever its origin, the story lived on: every August, when the moon was high and the nights grew cooler, a single lantern appeared, drifting down the river against the current.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Fiction
The Garden of Memories
M Mehran The old house at the corner of Willow Lane had always been full of life. Its walls were faded, but its garden bloomed every spring with colors that seemed to laugh at time itself. For the Patel family, it was more than a home—it was a tapestry of memories, stitched together over generations.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Families
The Bridge of Second Chances
M Mehran In the town of Riverton, a small bridge spanned the quiet river that divided the old neighborhood from the new. To most, it was just a functional crossing, worn with age and lined with chipped paint. But to those who knew its history, it was a symbol—a bridge between regret and redemption.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Secret
M Mehran In the heart of Ashwood, a sleepy town where everyone knew everyone, there was a small shop tucked between a bakery and a bookstore. Its sign read simply: “Harrison’s Clocks”. Few paid it much attention, but those who did, whispered about the old clockmaker and the secrets he kept.
By Muhammad Mehran5 months ago in Fiction
