Classical
The Neighbour’s Wife
In every neighborhood, relationships are formed not just by proximity but by shared values, mutual respect, and unspoken boundaries. The phrase “the neighbour’s wife” often appears in stories, gossip, and even moral discussions, sometimes carrying unnecessary suspicion or curiosity. Yet, when examined thoughtfully, it opens an important conversation about ethics, social responsibility, and the way individuals choose to see and treat one another within a community.
By shaoor afridiabout 4 hours ago in Fiction
Luxury Meets Innovation on the Green Field. AI-Generated.
The morning sun spread gently across the wide green field, turning every blade of grass into a small mirror of light. The field lay just outside the city, a place where nature still breathed freely and the noise of traffic felt far away. On this quiet land stood two remarkable cars: a sleek Lamborghini, glowing in deep metallic orange, and a modern Tesla, smooth and silver, reflecting the sky above it.
By Bilal Mohammadiabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
The Sparkle of Fate on the Mountain Slope. AI-Generated.
Lina was a young girl who lived in a small village near the mountains. Her village was quiet and peaceful, surrounded by green fields and tall trees. The mountains stood behind the village like silent guardians. Lina loved those mountains more than anything else. She often dreamed that one day they would change her life.
By Bilal Mohammadiabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
THE MOTH
Hapley was one of the most celebrated entomologists of his time, famous for his discoveries and infamous for his bitter feud with Professor Pawkins. Their rivalry had lasted for decades and had grown from an academic disagreement into a personal war. It began when Pawkins dismissed a species Hapley had named, and from that moment onward, the two men attacked each other relentlessly in papers, meetings, and public lectures. Their quarrel became legendary within scientific circles, stirring passions as fierce as any religious dispute.
By Faisal Khanabout 9 hours ago in Fiction
The Town That Forgot Tomorrow
The town of Bellmere had one strange rule: no one talked about tomorrow. At first, Maya thought it was a joke. She had arrived in Bellmere on a rainy evening, her car breaking down just beyond the town sign. The sign itself was old and rusted, with faded letters that read: Welcome to Bellmere. Nothing unusual until she asked the mechanic when her car would be ready.
By Asghar ali awanabout 23 hours ago in Fiction
Persephone's Porch
"Circe, for Chrissakes, put Cerberus on his leash to keep him off the porch. I don't need him dragging three sets of drooling jowls across it when the nymphs just cleaned." Persephone pulled her blonde hair back and tied it in a loose knot to keep it off her face. "I can't believe Hermes is bringing the whole famdamnily."
By Harper Lewisa day ago in Fiction
Letters to ada
Letter I – From Layth to Ada Void, beyond the 22nd century My Dearest Ada, Your eyes... velvet that dissolves the last remnants of my coldness. I was an extinguished ember, until your radiance moistened me like a river-child bending over an ancient thirst in my chest. You blinked—and all of Time leaned toward my mouth. A redness upon your lips touched my fissures, and I softened... I, whom stones never softened. Your iris was my window and my mirror: a core that illuminates and desiccates what remained of my cold soul. I whisper to you a gesture of containment, and I dissolve in Time, even though I was frozen beneath the anesthesia of heavy smoke from a cigarette that keeps the night awake in my blood. I hid a poet in an old box—I feared that if he saw you, the world around me would be disturbed... but your wide lashes excavated the box and awakened what had died before you. You approached... and in the silence of night you were like a thread of light passing over my heart. I saw sorrow wrapped around your white shawl, its yellowness faded as if traces of a day that continued to extinguish. I said to you in a whisper, my voice sagging between fear and wonder: Will you entwine your hand in mine, and shall we slip together to the bottom of Time... without fear? You smiled, and the universe slackened around me, as if the warmth of your fingers was all that remained of the world. And you were asking in silence: “Where is your place within my embrace?” And I, in whose throat the sword of silence had been planted, found myself choosing you before I could speak. Black were your eyes, yet they kindled a daylight within me. And for the first time... O you of the two eyes, I felt that I was luminous.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH2 days ago in Fiction
The Day Everyone Stopped Looking at the Sky
On the morning the sky changed, no one noticed. Cars moved through traffic like obedient insects. Coffee cups steamed in bored hands. Notifications buzzed, chimed, and blinked like impatient fireflies demanding attention. Heads were bowed—not in prayer, not in reflection, but in devotion to glowing screens.
By Yasir khan3 days ago in Fiction
Small Heat
The fire was tiny enough to disbelieve. Two slender pieces of wood sat under the kettle, slanted just so, their edges already burned. The flame between them didn’t rise or roar. It remained low, almost bashful, like it wasn’t sure it deserved to be there. Snow encircled everything—on the ground, on the lip of the fire pit, packed tight and quiet. The cold seemed older than me, older than my thoughts, like it had always been waiting.
By abualyaanart4 days ago in Fiction
