Classical
The Merchant . AI-Generated.
The merchant, known throughout the city for his sturdy, well-made trousers, was enjoying an unprecedented level of success. His workshop hummed with activity, and orders poured in from far and wide. One evening, while meticulously mending a tear in a particularly coarse piece of cloth, he noticed something peculiar. As he rubbed the torn edges together, a faint, ethereal light emanated from the fabric, illuminating his workshop with an otherworldly glow.
By Monnade Mixoumabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Songbird
In a distant future, the Earth has grown eerily quiet. A mysterious event called "The Hush" has stolen sound from the world—no whispers, no laughter, no music. Cities are now silent ruins, and humanity lives in isolation, communicating through gestures and written words.
By Mira Langstonabout a year ago in Fiction
Under the Scorching Sun
The village of Bandhnapur, nestled deep in the parched heart of the Northern peninsula, was a place where life moved slowly, bound by the unyielding grip of tradition. Dust clung to every surface, carried by dry winds that whispered secrets from generations past. The fields stretched endlessly, cracked and barren under the merciless sun, while the thatched huts huddled together like battered soldiers braving a storm.
By Tales by J.J.about a year ago in Fiction
"Theirs was a happy family until..."
Theirs was a happy family until the day the mysterious letter arrived. The Johnson's, consisting of Ethan Alexander, his wife Victoria Wilson and their two children, Dan and Lily , lived in a beautiful home in Houston. Ethan a famous actor, had just finished filming his latest movie, while Victoria, an accomplished actress and producer, was working on a new project. Dan, their eldest, was a successful actor in his own right, and Lily, the youngest, was a talented journalist.
By Abdul Salam Ibrahimabout a year ago in Fiction
A World Unheard
The chipped Formica table in the greasy spoon diner was Ethan’s world for an hour each Tuesday. He’d sit by the window, the greasy fingerprints a blurry frame around the grey London sky above Camden High Street, a world of sound he could only perceive as vibrations through the glass.
By Tales by J.J.about a year ago in Fiction
The Vanishing Neighbor
Ava had always found comfort in routines. Every morning, she sipped her coffee by the window, watching the world wake up in her quiet suburban neighborhood. Across the street lived Mr. Leland, an elderly man who, like clockwork, watered his plants at 7:00 a.m. sharp.
By Mira Langstonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Forest That Whispers
Every year, the villagers of Greystone left offerings at the edge of the Whispering Woods. It was an unspoken rule passed down through generations—never enter the forest, no matter how tempting the whispers might be. They said the forest spoke to you in the voice of your deepest longing, offering promises too sweet to resist.
By Mira Langstonabout a year ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Apprentice
In the small, foggy town of Ravenshade, every clock in existence seemed to tick a little slower, as if time itself hesitated to pass. At the heart of the town stood a peculiar little shop, Merrick’s Timepieces, where the enigmatic clockmaker, Mr. Merrick, worked tirelessly. Known for his ability to repair any clock, no matter how broken, he guarded his secrets fiercely—until the day he hired an apprentice.
By Mira Langstonabout a year ago in Fiction
Upon the Abracadabra Roads: The Chance for the Bugged Crown. AI-Generated.
Sai, his adolescence acquaintance and the apple healer, was appropriately fatigued to these stories. With her abysmal adeptness of herbs and the bewitched arts, Sai generally batten of the road’s power, assertive that it captivated the key to unlocking a abstruse that had been absent for centuries. The villagers had continued back alone the abstraction of the road, absolution it as fantasy. But for Jose and Sai, it became an obsession. They were bent to acquisition the alley and seek the Tsar Maiden’s allegorical crown, a mystical antiquity said to admission its agent the adeptness to ascendancy time itself.
By Say the truth about a year ago in Fiction
"Modern Reunion Under the Banyan Tree"
Reunion Beneath the Banyan Tree It had been ten years aback academy ended. Activity had taken me on a adventure I never expected. I formed hard, austere the UPSC exams, and now captivated a government job. But alike with aggregate I had achieved, I couldn’t balloon her—the quiet, academic babe from my academy canicule in Montfort School, Manjampatti, Trichy.
By Say the truth about a year ago in Fiction
