yasir zeb

Joined June 2025

18 stories

Bio

best stories and best life

Stories (18)

Filter by community

Sort by (Optional)

A Letter I Never Sent
I never thought silence could be heavier than words, but here I am, holding a letter I wrote years ago, one I never mailed, one that still hums with the weight of everything I couldn’t bring myself to say.
By yasir zeb5 months ago in Humans
When the Sky Grew Roots
When the sky grew roots, the first person to notice was a woman on the early bus who thought telephone wires were finally learning to braid themselves. She took a photo. By the time the bus crossed the river, threads of brown were draping from the low belly of the clouds like fringe on a shawl. The bus driver pulled over on the bridge and stepped outside, his mouth a small O at the invasion above him. We all stared. We forgot to check our phones, for once. It felt like someone had pushed the world’s pause button.
By yasir zeb5 months ago in Fiction
When the Ocean Stopped Breathing
Gulls still screamed and garbage trucks still snarled down Seaview Avenue, but beneath and behind the usual noises there was an absence, a missing bass note I didn’t know I depended on until it was gone. I walked to the window expecting to see the same tide-wet ribbon of beach I’d grown up with, the same restless Atlantic chewing at the pilings in small, indifferent bites.
By yasir zeb5 months ago in Fiction
a camel is a desert animal
In the heart of the vast and unforgiving desert, where the sun blazes mercilessly over endless dunes of golden sand, there exists an animal perfectly adapted to survive the harshest of conditions. This animal, with its towering frame and majestic hump, is the camel. Known as the "Ship of the Desert," the camel has long been a symbol of resilience and endurance in the arid regions of the world. This is the story of one such camel, named Sahra, who roamed the endless sands of the Arabian Desert.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Fiction
How to Survive Your Reflection
How to Survive Your Reflection By [Yasir Zeb] Step One: Approach with Caution Stand before the mirror like it's a loaded weapon.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Poets
Offline Forever
I used to count time in likes. Not seconds, not minutes—likes. A minute was good if it gave me thirty. A photo was worth posting if it crossed a thousand. I had a rhythm: wake up, post, scroll, post again. Eat a curated breakfast that looked good on the screen. Cry only when I was off-camera. And even then, sometimes, I didn’t.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Fiction
The House That Remembers Me
The house had been empty for six years. Not vacant—empty. There’s a difference. Vacant is neutral. Empty carries weight.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Fiction
I Watched the World End From My Mother’s Balcony
The last sunrise was pale and unconvincing, like a whisper trying to be a scream. It was just after five in the morning when the emergency alert flashed across my phone. I already knew. We all did. The air had been different for weeks — thinner, quieter, too still. The birds stopped coming. The city began to empty itself of sound. And somewhere beneath my ribs, my bones had started to hum with a kind of grief I didn’t have words for.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Poets
We Burned Our Diaries and Danced in the Smoke
We did it under the moonlight because we wanted the stars to watch. It was the last night of school, the last night of being who they told us to be. Tomorrow, we’d walk across a stage in navy blue robes and shake hands with people who never really looked at us. But tonight—tonight belonged to us.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in BookClub
The Algorithm That Knew Me Better Than I Did
I didn’t cry when Aaron left. I didn’t even blink. He stood in the doorway of our apartment—coat half-zipped, face unreadable—and said the words like he was reciting a grocery list:
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Fiction
We Are What We Search
In the city of Vireo, no one carried wallets, IDs, or even names. Everyone wore a translucent band around their wrist—called a Stream—that projected their verified identity through a constant drip of real-time search data. Who you were depended entirely on what you searched.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Serve
What the Cat Brought Back
The first thing the cat brought was a button. Just a plain, navy-blue button, no larger than a dime, sitting squarely in the middle of my doormat. At the time, I thought nothing of it. Maybe it fell off a Neighb0r coat. Maybe my son had dropped it, though he hadn’t worn anything with buttons in months. I swept it away and went on with my morning—packing Mason’s lunch, checking if his favorite socks were clean, scanning the job boards for anything that paid more than minimum wage.
By yasir zeb6 months ago in Fiction