Classical
The Man Who Sold Tomorrow. AI-Generated.
Gregor Vale had always believed time was not a river, but a marketplace. In the back corner of an old European alley, behind fogged glass and a tarnished brass sign, stood his tiny workshop — Vale & Sons: Custom Clocks Since 1882.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
The Enchanted Midnight
The night was unusually still at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the kind of stillness that made even the portraits seem to hold their breath. Harry Potter, now in his fifth year, wandered quietly along the dimly lit corridors, his wand clenched tightly in his hand. Though most students were tucked away in their dormitories, the castle itself seemed alive with secrets, and Harry had learned that magic often lingered in the quietest corners.
By Abubakar khan 2 months ago in Fiction
The Duelist. Top Story - November 2025.
The rays of a dying red sun flashed against the onrushing blade. The grey beards say the key to dueling lies in size, speed, reach, righteous fury, whatever the person in front of them pays them to say. Matteo knew better than any it was none of these and had an undefeated record on these sands to prove it.
By Matthew J. Fromm2 months ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Spoke to Shadows. AI-Generated.
The Boy Who Spoke to Shadows Rayan was eight when he first noticed the extra shadow. It appeared on a quiet November night — the kind where the cold crept under doors, and the moon shone bright enough to make the whole room glow silver. He had woken from a dream he couldn’t remember, his heart beating too fast, his throat too dry.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
The Library That Remembered Her. AI-Generated.
The Library That Remembered Her Arman had not planned to walk that way. He never did. The old district near the abandoned harbor was a place he avoided — every street carried the faint echo of her laughter. But that night, the wind felt oddly familiar, almost like someone was guiding him by the sleeve. Before he could realize where his feet were leading, he was standing in front of a building he had never seen before.
By shakir hamid2 months ago in Fiction
Real-Life Superpowers: The People Who Are Basically X-Men
If you’re anything like me, you probably spent a lot of your childhood (and maybe even some of your adult life) wishing for superpowers. I always dreamed of teleportation, mostly for very practical reasons. Imagine sleeping until two minutes before you need to clock in, then zipping straight to work! Or being able to eat that amazing street food in Tokyo, then have dessert in Paris, all without dealing with airport security and airfares. Talk about convenience! Funnily enough, there were a few powers I definitely didn't want. Flying seemed cold, and I figured people would probably try to shoot down random objects in the sky. Invisibility? Too risky, I don't want to get hit by a car that can't see me! And reading minds? No thanks. I’m fine not knowing if someone secretly dislikes my new shirt.
By Areeba Umair2 months ago in Fiction
THE LAST VOICE NOTE SHE LEFT ME
Her name was Ayla, and for three years, she had been the brightest part of my small, quiet life. We weren’t dating. We weren’t siblings. We were something in between—two broken kids who accidentally became each other’s lifelines.
By Muhammad Kashif 2 months ago in Fiction
The Ceasefire That Didn’t Hold
The Ceasefire That Didn’t Hold For three days, the border had been filled with fire, smoke, and fear. Then the ceasefire came — a thin thread of hope, fragile like glass. For the first time in seventy-two hours, the guns went quiet. Families returned from camps. Soldiers stepped back from their positions. Reporters lowered their cameras.
By Wings of Time 2 months ago in Fiction
Between Mirror and Reflection
Noor was telling me: “Madam Norma is a woman who is said to look into the past and the future through contact with beings from another realm. She is so much in demand that people wait for months just to get a ten-minute appointment with her. I was lucky to get a half-hour slot when someone cancelled at the last moment.”
By Mansoor Afaq2 months ago in Fiction
When the Bones are Good
The door was heavier than I remembered, but the hinges were weak with rust. I leaned in, my body pressed up against the frame and shoved. I stumbled into the room clumsily, gripping the knob still so as not to crash down to the floor. There were tiles missing in the linoleum, and the white, floral white paper had taken on a dingy yellow stain.
By Theresa M Hochstine2 months ago in Fiction
