Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Confessions.
New York rapper who joined Trump campaign rally sentenced for attempted murder | AP
## What is the case about? This news concerns a New York City rapper known professionally as **Sheff G**, whose legal name is **Michael Williams**, and his sentencing for **attempted murder** and **conspiracy**. The rapper, who previously joined **Donald Trump** onstage during a campaign rally in 2024, admitted to using proceeds from his music to fund gang-related violence in Brooklyn. ([AP News][1])
By America today 4 months ago in Confessions
Beat of Norteñas. AI-Generated.
As Norrisika and I dance to the rhythm and beat of Norteñas. We had fallen even more as our hearts danced. Love and laughter filled the night, and a soothing gaze followed after. His hand rested firmly at the small of my back, guiding my steps with a silent, confident pressure. The accordion swelled, filling the air with a brassy warmth that smelled faintly of pine and the cold night. I didn't need to look at his face to know he was smiling; I felt the movement in the tension of his shoulder, a perfect mirror to the joy rising in my own chest. The song finally drew to a slow, melodic close, leaving a collective sigh in the room. We remained exactly where we were for a beat too long, chests still rising and falling in time. When Norrisika finally pulled away, she didn't step far, just enough to tilt her head back and meet my eyes—a look that held all the promise of the night. The music might have stopped, but the rhythm of our own hearts continued, loud and clear, carrying us off the dance floor and into the quiet that lay ahead. The long quiet began to deafen, a stark contrast to the thumping heart of the Norteñas. The hall was suddenly too bright, too loud with other people’s laughter. We slipped through the crowd, an island of stillness in a sea of motion, finding the cool, clear night air outside. The pine scent was stronger here, mixed now with the hint of her perfume. Norrisika linked her arm through mine, her steps falling easily into sync with my own. We didn't speak. There was no need for words; the shared silence felt like a continuation of the dance, a promise spoken without a sound, and the only path we needed to follow. The hall was suddenly too bright, too loud with other people’s laughter. We slipped through the crowd, an island of stillness in a sea of motion, finding the cool, clear night air outside. The pine scent was stronger here, mixed now with the hint of her perfume. Norrisika linked her arm through mine, her steps falling easily into sync with my own. We didn't speak. There was no need for words; the shared silence felt like a continuation of the dance, a promise spoken without a sound, and the only path we needed to follow.
By Kevin Sanders4 months ago in Confessions
The Last Promise of a Mother on the Burning Train
The Last Trust of a Mother BY: Ubaid It was nearly two years ago when I, Professor Dr. F.H. Farooqi, was traveling by train from Karachi to Lahore with my son after attending a wedding ceremony. The train crossed Rohri station, and after having our meal, we both lay down on our berths to rest. The rhythmic motion of the train was soothing, but suddenly, a wave of panic spread through the coaches. People began shouting hysterically—“The train is on fire!”
By Ubaid 4 months ago in Confessions
The Hidden 20s: A Lesson Beyond Textbooks
The Test Beyond the Textbooks By Sadiq ur Rehman Shah, Sargodha When I stood first in my school examination, joy overwhelmed me like never before. My parents were delighted, showering me with praise, and even arranged a grand family dinner in my honor. Being the youngest and much-loved son, my achievements were always celebrated, but this time it was different. Despite the expensive tuition classes my parents had invested in, despite their countless sacrifices, I had rarely brought them the kind of success that filled them with pride. Yet this time, with a first position, it felt like I had finally justified their hope in me.
By Ubaid 4 months ago in Confessions
The Confession of Fire by Stefano D’Angello
Part I - The Confession of Fire The rain never seemed to stop that month in Florence. The sky hung low and heavy, as though burdened by the weight of prayers it could no longer answer. In the heart of the city, behind the cracked marble pillars of the Santissima Trinità, Father Gabriel served the word of God. He was thirty-seven, solemn and disciplined, a man whose hands had only touched holy things.
By Stefano D'angello4 months ago in Confessions
The Neighbor’s Secret
I moved into my new apartment with the usual mix of excitement and exhaustion. The building was old creaky floors, faded wallpaper, and thin walls but it was affordable and quiet. I was grateful for that after years of noisy roommates and street traffic.
By Queen adan4 months ago in Confessions
Dump Truck Tire Puncture on the Road
Dump Truck Tire Puncture on the Road The sun was only beginning to rise when I started my drive that morning. The road stretched out like an endless ribbon of gray, and the air was cool enough that I had my window cracked just to feel the breeze. Driving a dump truck isn’t glamorous, but there’s something calming about being on the highway before most people are awake. The world feels quieter, slower, and for a while, it’s just you and the road.
By Fareed Ullah4 months ago in Confessions
The Things I Never Said Out Loud
The Things I Never Said Out Loud By Hasnain Shah I’ve always believed silence could be an act of kindness. If you don’t say the harsh truth, you won’t hurt anyone. If you keep the bitterness locked inside, you protect the people you love from the sting of your words. At least, that’s what I told myself every time my chest felt heavy with things I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
By Hasnain Shah4 months ago in Confessions
