Nusuki

Joined October 2025

32 stories

Bio

I am a storyteller and writer who brings human emotions to life through heartfelt narratives. His stories explore love, loss, and the unspoken, connecting deeply with listeners and inspiring reflection.

Stories (32)

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Whispers of the Unseen: A Journey to Hidden Corners of the World
Travel is not about notching places off a map, it is about feeling the quiet places, getting stories locals are whispering about, and getting lost down those streets that you do not read about. When other tourists are taking pictures in front of the well-known sights, I have always been attracted to the darker shades of the world, the villages concealed beneath the waving hills, the streets where time stands still and the cafes where the natives recognize you even before you can take a seat.
By Nusukiabout a month ago in Earth
Where the River Meets the Stars
The river had always served as their place. When they were kids Mira and Rowan spent every summer evening sitting at the old wooden dock of her grandparents countryside home. They'd put their feet in the cool water and toss pebbles and pretend the fireflies dancing above them were tiny fallen stars.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Families
The Last Train Home
When Anna came the clock in the platform had struck eleven. It was now the evening before midnight and the station was almost deserted--only a janitor sweeping the floor covered with tiles, and a man sleeping on a bench. The cold made her breath cloudy as she stood looking down the tracks and their lines of silver becoming lost in the fog.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Gift
In a small cobblestoned town in the middle of two green hills lived an old clockmaker, Elias Thorn. His workshop, tucked at the corner of Willow Street, was a symphony of crushing sounds - hundreds of clocks, ticking with a life of their own.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter
The train was then long gone from the station, but Ava was still standing, still holding old, yellowed envelope in her fingers. The paper was soft from being opened and folded too many times. The words inside had faded, but she didn't even need to read them anymore - she knew them by heart.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Gift
In Ravelle, time had a slower pace. The streets between the stone houses were meandering like the ribbon streets and every evening, in the air, the smell of bread from the old bakery and the faint scent of rain. At the very center of the town was to be found a little shop with a faded sign reading:
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Call of the Minaret
The early sun had just started to rise from behind the house tops of Medina when Bilal woke up. The air was still cool and heavy with the smell of sand and date palms. For a moment, he listened to the faint sounds of the city waking -- the distant bleating of goats, the clatter of water pots and the quiet hum of life returning after the silence of the night.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert
And the wind sang along the dunes, and Malik took a brush against his shabby cloak, and the desert sand was like tiny sparks on his face. This was hours of walking on part of him, in pursuit of the horizon that kept on pushing away. The sun was now setting, and coloured the sky with fire and gold.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)
Heavy with the sun, with its rays scorching the desert into an oven of light and heat, the sun stood over Mecca. In a small corner near the Kaaba, a man was lying on the ground chained to the burning sand, his back raw from the whip, his lips dry and cracked. Each inhalation was punctuated by pain but from his shaking lips was uttered a word that would not die.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Day of Mercy
The desert morning was quiet. Thousands of white tents shone in the rising sun, of the hills about Makkah. The Prophet Muhammad, the Muslim saint, had come back after years of exile, persecution and struggle not as a fugitive, but as a conqueror.
By Nusuki2 months ago in History
The Journey of Faith
The Makkah night had a silent nature, like a suppressed breath. Near the Kaaba, the Prophet Muhammadbased on the Haq use of the prophet Muhammad heart was busy resting after years of misunderstanding and suffering.
By Nusuki3 months ago in History
The Golden Pen
It was 830 CE and Baghdad was a light city. Not the light of fire or conquering - but of knowledge. Its domes were shining on the river Tigris, within its walls were scholars, traveling with the same footsteps as brothers all the far corners of the world.
By Nusuki3 months ago in History

Nusuki

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Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(32)

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Whispers of the Unseen: A Journey to Hidden Corners of the World

Where the River Meets the Stars

The Last Train Home

The Clockmaker’s Gift

The Last Letter

The Clockmaker’s Gift

The Call of the Minaret

The Light of the Desert

The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)

The Day of Mercy

The Journey of Faith

The Golden Pen

Stories (32)