Muhammad Mehran
Stories (210)
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The Classroom With No Doors
M Mehran When Maya stepped into Room 12 for the first time, she thought she had made a terrible mistake. The walls were bare. The desks didn’t match. The single window looked out onto a parking lot. And the class list—oh, the class list—read like a challenge written by someone who doubted she’d last until October.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Education
The Poet Who Spoke to Shadows
M Mehran In a city that never slept, there was a street that seemed invisible unless you were looking for it. The locals called it Whisper Lane, a narrow cobblestone alley lined with shuttered shops and flickering lanterns. At the very end, hidden behind a curtain of ivy, was a small bookstore and café called Ink & Echoes. People said it was a place where poets went to lose themselves—and sometimes, to find something entirely unexpected.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Poets
The Last Café for Poets
M Mehran In the heart of the city, tucked between a crumbling bookstore and a neon-lit record shop, there was a café that seemed almost forgotten by time. Its windows were streaked with the fingerprints of dreamers who had come and gone, leaving whispers of their stories behind. The faded sign above the door read simply: The Last Café for Poets.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Poets
I Learned Who I Really Am After Saying ‘No’ for 30 Days
M Mehran FYI: I used to be a “yes” person. Not because I liked helping everyone, but because I was terrified of disappointing people—or worse, being alone. Every invitation, every favor, every last-minute plan—I said yes. Always yes.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in FYI
The Shadow on Bramble Street
M Mehran The night Mrs. Ellery disappeared, Bramble Street held its breath. Detective Rowan Pierce arrived at the scene just past 11 p.m., greeted by the glow of porch lights and neighbors gathered like moths. The Ellery house—small, yellow, immaculate—looked painfully ordinary for the horrors whispered about it.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Criminal
The Last Witness
M Mehran Rain fell in needles the night Detective Mara Vance realized she was being followed. She’d left the precinct after midnight, the kind of exhausted where the world felt underwater. The Rosen Case—a convenience-store robbery gone brutal—had dragged the department for weeks. A clerk dead, a missing witness, and a blurry security tape that showed a man with a serpent tattoo along his wrist. That was it. No face. No prints. No breaks.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Criminal
The Girl in the Green Hoodie
M Mehran The storm hit Silverbridge just after midnight—sheets of rain hammering pavement, lightning flashing over the empty streets like camera shutters capturing crimes no one had yet committed. Detective Jalen Cross preferred nights like this. Bad weather made criminals sloppy.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Criminal
The Last Confession
M Mehran Detective Mara Vance had learned two unshakable truths in her twenty years with the Harbor City Police Department: people lie, and guilt never sleeps. Tonight, both truths pressed heavily on her shoulders as she stepped into Cell 12 of the precinct’s lower wing.
By Muhammad Mehranabout a month ago in Criminal
