Classical
The Second Challenge
The Second Challenge Arriving at my hut, I find the guardian of the mountain who appears more brilliant than ever. Her eyes never stray from my own. I think that I am exceptional to God. I feel his presence at all times. He resurrects me in every way. When I was unemployed, He opened a door; when I didn't have any opportunities to grow professionally, He gave me new paths; when in times of crisis, He freed me from the bonds of Satan. Anyway, that look of approval from the strange woman reminded me of the man I was up until recently. My current goal was to win, regardless of the obstacles that I had to overcome.
By Aldivan Teixeira Torres10 months ago in Fiction
Love U, Fiona
LOVE U Fiona.. Our protagonist is Fiona. Fiona Ray. Fiona is an adopted girl. Her real mother is a Russian woman. Her mother came to Singapore in the mid-nineteen-eighties as a prostitute. She was sold to young men from high-class families in Singapore and earned hundreds of thousands of dollars.
By Rohitha Lanka10 months ago in Fiction
The Garden Blooms
The Garden Blooms by Kabir Ahmed Chowdury Flowers have bloomed in the garden. That’s only natural—flowers 'will' bloom in a garden, so what’s there to fuss about? They’ll bloom, spread their fragrance, attract bees, and draw butterflies! Oh, wait—why would bees come? Is there a honeycomb tucked away in the garden for bees to swarm to? Maybe not, but what’s the harm in imagining it? A passing traveler might suddenly pause, struck by the sight.
By Chowdhury Kabir10 months ago in Fiction
The Hut
A new day appears. Birds whistle and sing their melodies, the wind is northeast, and its breeze refreshes the sun that rises fiercely hot this time of the year. Currently, it is December and for me, this month represents one of the most beautiful months as it is the beginning of school vacation. It is a well-deserved break after a long year dedicated to studies in a college course of Mathematics; The moment you can forget all the integrals, derivatives and polar coordinates. Now I need to worry about all the challenges that life will throw at me. My dreams depend on it. My back hurts as a result of a bad night of sleep lying on the beaten earth that I prepared as a bed. The hut that I built with incredible effort and the fire that I lit gave me a certain amount of security at night. However, I did hear howling and footsteps outside it. Where have my dreams led me? The answer is to the end of the world, where civilization has not yet arrived. What would you do, reader? Would you also risk a trip to make your deepest dreams come true? Let's continue the narrative.
By Aldivan Teixeira Torres10 months ago in Fiction
The Sacred Mountain
The Sacred Mountain A long time ago, I heard of an extremely inhospitable mountain around Pesqueira. It is part of the mountain range of Ororubá (indigenous name) where the indigenous Xukuru people dwell. They say that it became sacred after the death of a mysterious medicine man from one of the Xukuru tribes. It can make any wish a reality, as long as the intention is pure and sincere. This is the starting point of my journey, whose objective is to make the impossible possible. Do you believe, readers? Then remain with me, paying special attention to the narrative.
By Aldivan Teixeira Torres10 months ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Silentium
The twin suns of Xylos cast long, distorted shadows across the dunes as the desert stretched out before Elara like an ocean of rust. The grav-drive of her modified sandcrawler, which she affectionately referred to as "Dusty," rumbled beneath her in a monotonous song. In this abandoned part of the galaxy, Elara was a scavenger and relic hunter, her face hidden by a rebreather and goggles. She tried to find the Silentium. The Silentium was a phenomenon rather than a location. A vast and terrifying area of space where there was no sound at all. There was no sound of an engine humming, a laser firing, or a voice. In the midst of the cosmic symphony, there was a bleak evidence of an unknown power—a void. Elara knew better than to believe it was a myth told by sailors to scare young space travelers. Her famous astrophysicist father had devoted his life to studying the Silentium because he was driven by a single, haunting question: What caused it? Ten years earlier, he had vanished into that void. Elara came to find out what had occurred. Elara followed a faint energy signature that her father's research had suggested, and as she moved through the barren landscape, days turned into weeks. Dusty's scanners pinged erratically, the silence of the desert amplifying the rhythmic thump of her own heart. The twin suns were relentlessly beating down on her, so she rationed her water and nutrient paste. Elara gasped as Dusty ascended a dunes one evening in the violet twilight. A valley that wasn't filled with sand but with metal lay in front of her. The landscape was littered with twisted, shattered structures of an unimaginable scale that glowed faintly in the waning light. This wasn't natural. The technology in this graveyard was so advanced that it was beyond comprehension. Elara whispered, her voice a dry rasp in the rebreather, "This is it." "He was in this location." Dusty was carefully led into the valley by her. The total absence of conversation was profound. Her ears hurt as it pressed against her like a physical force. She switched to visual communication on her helmet display, the text appearing in front of her eyes.
By Tafsirul Talukdar luvdo10 months ago in Fiction
SpaceX Launch Creates Mesmerizing 'Nebula' in Sky: April 21, 2025, Space Picture of the Day
In a dazzling demonstration of technology meeting natural beauty, a recent SpaceX rocket launch painted an awe-inspiring image in the early morning skies, resembling the brilliant, swirling colors of a deep-space nebula. This captivating spectacle occurred during the company’s 32nd commercial resupply mission (CRS-32) to the International Space Station (ISS), solidifying SpaceX’s place not only as a trailblazer in aerospace technology but also as an unintentional artist of the cosmos.
By Sakibul Islam Sakib10 months ago in Fiction
