Classical

The Silent Climb
In a peaceful village nestled between vast hills and serene lakes, lived a boy named Ayan. He was known for his quiet nature, yet his mind was bursting with dreams. Unlike his peers who were satisfied with routine, Ayan longed for adventure, exploration, and achievement—all synonyms of the ambitions he nurtured silently.
By meerjanan6 days ago in Fiction
The Silent Climb
In a quiet village nestled between green hills and calm lakes, there lived a boy named Ayan. He was quiet by nature, often seen sitting under the old fig tree with a faraway look in his eyes. While others played, he would sketch mountains, write in his worn notebook, and stare at the peaks beyond the horizon.
By meerjanan6 days ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Attic
There was a house on the edge of the village that no one spoke of, not unless the wind was still and the night felt too long. It stood at the top of the hill, half-hidden by ivy and time, its windows clouded with dust, its porch sagging under the weight of years. The other children said it was cursed. They claimed they’d seen shadows where there should be none, heard laughter when the house had been empty for decades.
By meerjanan6 days ago in Fiction
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjanan6 days ago in Fiction
Instincts of Survival. AI-Generated.
The mountain air was thinner than Lina remembered. Each breath burned her lungs as she climbed higher along the narrow trail, her boots scraping against loose stones. Pine trees surrounded her like silent guards, their tall shadows stretching across the rocky ground. She had come alone to clear her mind, believing the mountains were safer than the noise of the world below.
By Bilal Mohammadi6 days ago in Fiction
💫 The Life They Almost Lived
There are lives we live, and then there are lives we imagine so clearly that they feel almost real. This was one of those.
By Zidane6 days ago in Fiction
A Mother’s Benediction
Once a year, mothers gather before dawn to fast, pray, and wait. Sakat Chauth is a Hindu festival not marked by celebration, but by endurance — a quiet vow made on behalf of a child who cannot yet speak for themselves.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin6 days ago in Fiction
The Silent War the World Is Already Fighting
The Silent War the World Is Already Fighting When people think about war, they imagine soldiers, tanks, and explosions. But today, some of the most dangerous battles are happening quietly—without gunfire, without borders, and often without the public even noticing. This is the age of cyber warfare, and it has already changed how nations compete for power.
By Wings of Time 6 days ago in Fiction
The Woman and the Four Wolves. AI-Generated.
At the edge of a vast wilderness, where the forest met the mountains and the air carried the scent of pine and cold earth, lived a woman named Arelia. Few people knew of her existence, and even fewer had ever seen her. Those who traveled near the forest spoke of silence, glowing eyes between trees, and a woman who walked without fear.
By Bilal Mohammadi7 days ago in Fiction
The Letter That Was Never Sent. AI-Generated.
The letter lived in the bottom drawer for eleven years. It was folded carefully, as if someone might open it at any moment, though no one ever did. The paper had softened at the creases. The ink had faded just enough to suggest patience rather than neglect.
By Mehwish Jabeen7 days ago in Fiction
THE REMARKABLE CASE OF DAVIDSON'S EYES
I. — The transitory mental aberration of Sidney Davidson, remarkable enough in itself, is still more remarkable if Wade's explanation is to be credited. It sets one dreaming of the oddest possibilities of intercommunication in the future, of spending
By Faisal Khan7 days ago in Fiction
IN THE AVU OBSERVATORY
The observatory at Avu, in Borneo, stands on the spur of the mountain. To the north rises the old crater, black at night against the unfathomable blue of the sky. From the little circular building, with its mushroom dome, the slopes plunge steeply
By Faisal Khan7 days ago in Fiction