Rehan Mozzam
Stories (5)
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Whispers of the Forgotten: A Journey Through Time and Memory
Beneath the dust of centuries and the shadows of forgotten stories, the past never truly fades. It lingers—a quiet hum in the walls of abandoned homes, a faint scent clinging to yellowed letters, or a name etched into a tombstone weathered by rain. This is a tale of how the whispers of those forgotten can reshape our understanding of time, memory, and what it means to be human.
By Rehan Mozzam10 months ago in Families
Why I Burned My Life’s Work—And Found Freedom in the Ashes
Start writing...I burned the manuscript on a Tuesday. It wasn’t a ritual. There was no sage, no drum circle, no Instagrammable sunset. Just me, a Dollar Store lighter, and 1,247 pages of a novel I’d spent seven years writing—and rewriting, and re-rewriting—until the sentences felt like cement in my veins. The fire smelled like shame. And freedom.
By Rehan Mozzam12 months ago in Writers
How My Grandmother’s Recipes Taught Me to Grieve
The first thing I did after Grandma died was burn the pot roast. It wasn’t intentional. I’d found her recipe box tucked under a stack of Better Homes & Gardens magazines in the pantry, its wooden edges worn smooth from decades of use. Inside were index cards in her looping cursive, stained with butter and paprika and what I’m pretty sure was a tear from the Great Dumpling Disaster of 1997. “Preheat oven to 350°,” the card read. Simple enough.
By Rehan Mozzam12 months ago in Feast
The Day I Stopped Believing in Ghosts (And Why I Started Again)
The Day I Stopped Believing in Ghosts (And Why I Started Again) My grandmother swore our house was haunted. “Listen,” she’d say, her knuckles whitening around her teacup as we sat at the kitchen table. The old Victorian would creak and groan, floorboards sighing like tired lungs. “That’s Mr. Higgins. He died right where you’re standing, you know. Fell down the stairs chasing his terrier.”
By Rehan Mozzam12 months ago in Horror
