Waqas Ahmad

Joined September 2025

10 stories

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Stories (10)

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The Last Letter
Rain tapped gently against the cracked window as Evelyn sat at her old wooden desk, staring at the faded envelope in her trembling hands. Her name was written in a familiar handwriting—looped, elegant, and painfully recognizable. She hadn’t seen it in fifteen years, not since the day Daniel left.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Confessions
The Strength Beneath Her Silence
The morning sun had barely risen when Amina stood by the small window of her one-room house. The pale light filtered through the cracked glass, resting gently on her weary face. She tied her scarf, as she did every day, and whispered a short prayer before stepping into the world that demanded so much, and gave back so little.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Lifehack
A Man Who Has Nothing
He woke up with nothing. No home. No money. Not even a name that people remembered. The city didn’t care. It never does.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Fiction
The Clock That Knew My Name
Tick. Tick. Tick. That sound had always been ordinary to me. The gentle heartbeat of time that fills a quiet room. But that changed the day the clock said my name.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Bought Tomorrow
It was a quiet morning in the small town of Greyvale when Elias Turner stepped into the old clock shop at the corner of Birch Street. The wooden sign above the door read:
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Fiction
“Voices in the Mirror”
It started on a Wednesday night. Rain tapping the windows, thunder rolling somewhere far away. Lena sat on her bed, scrolling through her phone, when the mirror across the room flickered — like someone had turned on a light inside it.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Fiction
“The Photograph on the Window”
My name is Daniel Gray, and for the past ten years, there’s been a photograph sitting on the window of my kitchen — a picture of me, my wife, and our little boy.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Men
"Every Twenty Minutes"
My name is Ethan Cole... and every twenty minutes, I wake up in a new world. Not because the world changes — but because I forget.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Men
One Last Cup of Coffee
One Last Cup of Coffee by KHAN The bell above the café door jingled softly as Arthur stepped inside, like it always did, like it always had. He nodded at the barista behind the counter—a young man with a pierced nose and kind eyes—before making his way to the corner table by the window. The seat across from him, as always, was left empty.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Men
The Keeper of Lost Things
The bell above the door of "Aeternum Clocks" didn't just jingle; it chimed a single, clear note that hung in the dust-moted air like a question. Elias, whose hands were as steady as his pendulum swings, didn't look up. He was calibrating the heart of a 19th-century longcase, his entire world narrowed to the tiny, relentless tick-tock.
By Waqas Ahmad3 months ago in Fiction