Children's Fiction
The Man Who Counted Sunsets
Every evening, he sat by the shore with a notebook, marking each sunset with a small circle. People mocked him—why count something that always returns? But he continued, observing the tiny differences in color, the angle of light, the emotion of the sky. One day a traveler asked him why he did it. He answered, “I don’t count sunsets—I count the versions of myself that watch them.” And as the sun dropped below the horizon, he realized he had become someone new again.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Girl Who Wrote in Ashes
She carried a small bowl of ashes everywhere she went—leftovers of homes she once knew. While others wrote with ink, she traced letters in gray dust on walls, on stone, on the ground. When the wind blew her words away, she smiled, for she knew meaning was not meant to stay. One morning, a child followed her, asking why she wrote knowing it would fade. She answered, “Because everything that burns teaches us how to begin again.” And the child understood, for her ashes left trails of hope behind her.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Library Beneath the Snow
When the first frost arrived, Tomas heard whispering beneath the ice. The villagers told him it was wind, but he knew wind did not speak in sentences. He followed the voice into the deep forest where snow piled like forgotten time. There, in a clearing, he saw rows of frozen books sealed under crystal layers. Each book held a moment that winter had preserved. Kneeling, Tomas brushed one open, and a memory not his own warmed the cold. The snow melted around him as he read, realizing that winter was not death—it was memory, sleeping.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Clockmaker’s Last Hour
The old clockmaker built his final creation with trembling hands. This clock had no numbers, no ticking, no gears to mark passing moments. Instead, it measured something else entirely. When he finished, he placed it in the town square and waited. People gathered. Nothing moved. No sound. No sign of time. But slowly, the crowd fell silent, listening to the stillness. And in that stillness, they felt their lives—every regret, every joy—held in suspension. When the clockmaker finally closed his eyes, the clock struck a single, timeless note that echoed forever.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The River That Stole Reflections
Lena approached the river expecting her face to return to her, but the surface remained blank. No matter how she bent over the moving water, it refused to show her who she was. So she walked along the bank, searching for answers in the current instead of the mirror. As she journeyed downstream, she saw hundreds of reflections frozen in ripples—some smiling, some crying, none belonging to her. Only when she reached the mouth of the sea did the water finally answer, reflecting not the woman she had been, but the one she was becoming.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
Where darkness becomes alive
Night fell gently over the valley, resting like a tired creature that had finally found a home. Elias walked beneath its velvet weight, listening to the silence that moved like lungs around him. Every star pulsed, every shadow trembled, and he realized the darkness was not empty—it was merely waiting for someone brave enough to listen. And in that moment, the night exhaled, and he exhaled with it, finally breathing for the first time.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
