Mystery
The Library That Ate Time
Birthdays. The annual forced march towards the grave, punctuated by awkward greetings and questionable cake choices. Mine, however, come with a unique little flavor: a yearly seventeen-minute vacation from consciousness. My brain's way of saying, "Nope, not dealing with another year of this." While the normies get balloons and heartfelt (read: generic) cards, I get a temporary flirtation with the void and the persistent suspicion that my existence is some cosmic sitcom I didn't audition for.
By Gugulethu Msomi8 months ago in Chapters
Where the Light Finds You
There’s something quietly defiant about a lighthouse. It stands at the edge of everything—stone and sea, silence and storm—rooted in solitude. It does not chase the darkness or tame the ocean. It simply shines. A single unwavering light in a world where everything else moves, changes, or disappears.
By Ahmed Rayhan8 months ago in Chapters











