Sana Ullah
Bio
Stories (20)
Filter by community
Whispers Beyond the Wall
The house on Maple Lane had stood silent for decades—its white paint peeling, its shutters crooked like tired eyes. Most of the neighbors ignored it, passing by quickly, pretending they didn’t hear the strange sounds that floated from its walls at night.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Horror
Liberty on Trial
The courtroom was silent, save for the ticking of the old clock hanging above the judge’s bench. The symbol of the eagle, claws gripping arrows and olive branches, loomed high on the wall — a reminder of what the Constitution was meant to protect.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Criminal
The Flag on Maple Street
Every morning, without fail, Mr. Thompson raised the American flag in front of his small white house on Maple Street. He was tall, lean, and always dressed in pressed slacks, a tucked-in shirt, and his old Korean War cap. His movements were slow but deliberate. The ritual never changed: unlock the flag box, unfold the stars and stripes with reverence, attach it to the pole, and hoist it up as the sun peeked over the trees.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Families
The Greedy Dog
In a peaceful little village surrounded by green hills and colorful meadows, there lived a dog named Bruno. He was not like the other dogs in the village—Bruno had a big heart, fast legs, and a strong bark—but what he had even more than that was an enormous appetite.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Petlife
Currency Collapse
It began on a Tuesday. At first, it seemed like a glitch. People opened their banking apps only to find zeros. ATMs refused to dispense cash. Credit cards were declined worldwide. Within hours, it was confirmed: the global financial system had crashed.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Motivation
The Flag on Maple Street
Every morning, without fail, Mr. Thompson raised the American flag in front of his small white house on Maple Street. He was tall, lean, and always dressed in pressed slacks, a tucked-in shirt, and his old Korean War cap. His movements were slow but deliberate. The ritual never changed: unlock the flag box, unfold the stars and stripes with reverence, attach it to the pole, and hoist it up as the sun peeked over the trees.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Families
The Silence Protocol
The sky over New Athens pulsed with the glow of synchronized drones, scanning streets with silent precision. Below them, the world hummed—not with life, but with sterile efficiency. Noise was regulated. Emotion was processed. Art was archived. And human feeling was a glitch the system had long since corrected.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Beat
The Library of Lost Thought
In the year 2157, stories no longer began with “Once upon a time.” They began with code. Human creativity had been outsourced. Novels were now engineered by emotion-calibrated algorithms. Songs were composed by sound-synthesis models that guaranteed maximum listener satisfaction. Paintings were rendered in virtual museums by neural nets trained on centuries of “art.”
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Fiction
The Last Library Card
The rain tapped gently on the windows of the tiny bookstore where Nora Carter spent most of her days. Tucked away in the quieter end of Charleston, the shop was more of a sanctuary than a business. On slow days, she sorted used books, made tea, and watched the world move without her.
By Sana Ullah7 months ago in Fiction
