Muhammad Siyab
Stories (5)
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The Second First Time
The morning air was thick with memory. Elena stood on the crumbling wooden dock, staring at the lake that had mirrored her childhood. A thousand dragonflies skated across its glassy surface. The boathouse, half-eaten by moss, leaned like an old man remembering youth. Everything looked just like it had twenty years ago—and nothing did.
By Muhammad Siyab 7 months ago in Fiction
You Were Never Really Here
I used to think I remembered you. The sound of your laugh, low and hesitant. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. The scent of citrus and clean linen that always seemed to follow you. But memory is a traitor, and now I wonder—did any of that ever happen?
By Muhammad Siyab 8 months ago in Fiction
The Summer That Wasn’t
There was a time when I believed summer could fix anything. Maybe it was the way the sun lingered longer, casting golden spells on everything it touched. Or maybe it was because summer always promised escape — from school, from pressure, from routines, from reality. But that one summer, the one we planned for months, never really happened. And yet, it still changed everything.
By Muhammad Siyab 8 months ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Remembered Everything
I met her when we were both nine. She sat alone under the jacaranda tree behind the school library, her fingers tracing invisible patterns in the dirt. Her name was Hana. She had hair like wet ink and eyes the color of dusk just before it surrendered to night. No one talked to her, and she didn’t seem to mind.
By Muhammad Siyab 8 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Spoke to Wolves
The villagers said Elias was strange. He never cried when he scraped his knees or fell from trees. He didn’t speak until he was five, and even then, only in murmurs that drifted more like growls than words. His mother, a quiet woman who stitched dreams into fabric, said he was born on a winter’s full moon with eyes the color of ash and stormclouds.
By Muhammad Siyab 8 months ago in Fiction
