Biography

A girl and boy classmates who fell in love
The first day of tenth grade always felt loud—voices echoing in the hallways, lockers slamming, friends reuniting after a long summer. But for Elena, it was the opposite. She stood quietly by the classroom door, holding her books tightly against her chest, trying not to get swept away in the flood of students. She didn’t know many people, having transferred from another school during the break.
By osama aziz2 months ago in Chapters
The Music That Could Be Seen
A blind composer wrote melodies so emotional they appeared as colors to those who listened. When he performed his final piece, the entire sky rippled with shifting hues. People finally understood that art is not seen, heard, or touched—it is felt, and feeling makes all senses one.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Lantern That Contained a Universe
A lantern glowed with swirling galaxies inside. Those who carried it saw their problems shrink to dust compared to the stars. One night, the lantern cracked, spilling stardust onto the earth. People panicked, fearing the universe had been lost. Instead, the lantern whispered, “The cosmos is not contained. It is shared.”
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The House That Rearranged Itself
A house shifted its rooms depending on the emotional state of its inhabitants. When they lied, corridors twisted confusingly. When they spoke truth, the structure became open and warm. One day, the house collapsed entirely—not from anger, but from the unbearable weight of unspoken pain. The family rebuilt it together, speaking honestly for the first time. The new house never shifted again.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Bird Made of Breath
A rare bird existed only when someone voiced a truth they feared. It formed from their exhalation, feathers shimmering with honesty. When a man confessed his deepest regret, the bird took flight for the first time in years. As it soared, people realized they had not grown silent out of peace but out of fear. And fear, left unspoken, leaves the world flightless.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Window That Reflected Possible Lives
A window in an abandoned house showed reflections not of the present, but of the life one could have lived if fear had never interfered. People traveled far to confront their mirrored destinies. One man saw himself as an artist he had always suppressed. Tears blurred the image, and when the mirror cleared, his reflection was already holding a paintbrush. Potential, once recognized, refuses to stay imaginary.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Door That Opened Into Yesterday
A door appeared in a meadow, leading not to another place but to a previous day of one’s life. People entered hoping to fix mistakes, only to find they could observe but not intervene. Yet watching their past selves with compassion instead of judgment changed them more than rewriting ever could. The door eventually faded, leaving behind a meadow filled with people who had finally forgiven themselves.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Boat Carved From Forgotten Names
On a distant shore, a boatmaker carved vessels from the names people had discarded—nicknames, ancestral names, names they wished they had grown into. Each boat carried a different weight depending on the strength of the name it embodied. A traveler set sail on a boat carved from a name he had refused to acknowledge. As it drifted, he felt the weight of his true self returning, letter by letter, until the name felt like a heartbeat inside him.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Shadow That Refused to Follow
A man’s shadow detached one morning and walked ahead of him instead of behind. It stood where the sun was brightest and gestured for the man to join. Reluctantly, he stepped into the light, realizing he had spent years walking away from illumination. His shadow had not abandoned him—it had simply grown tired of walking toward darkness.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Cartographer of Invisible Lands
A cartographer spent decades drawing landscapes that did not appear in the physical world. People mocked him, saying he mapped illusions. But he insisted, “I chart the terrains of inner lives.” His maps revealed mountains of courage, valleys of regret, deserts of doubt, and coastlines shaped by hope. When he died, the villagers finally unrolled his greatest map. It resembled the outline of a human soul—vast, fractured, luminous. And suddenly, all his invisible lands became undeniable.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Library of Unasked Questions
In a hidden library, every book contained a question someone never dared to ask. Some were trembling with fear, others shimmering with curiosity. A visitor opened one and discovered a question she had buried years ago: What if I am meant for more than what I became? The words pulsed softly, as if alive. She closed the book, understanding at last that unasked questions do not disappear—they wait for courage to find them. When she left the library, a single book vanished from the shelf, its question finally freed.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Bridge That Borrowed Time
A bridge stood over a river that no map recorded. Those who crossed it felt lighter with each step, unaware that the bridge was taking memories as toll. A philosopher crossed halfway and felt his childhood slipping away like water through fingers. Instead of panicking, he paused and asked the bridge what it did with the memories it collected. The wood beneath him vibrated softly, showing him glimpses of people’s forgotten joys: a first laugh, a lost friend, a dream never pursued. Touched, he stepped back and returned to the shore. Sometimes forgetting is a theft; sometimes it is mercy.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters