Classical
When Stars Remembered Their Names
It began with a flicker. Not a satellite or a shooting star, but a deep, resonant pulse from Sirius, the Dog Star. Dr. Aris Thorne, an astronomer who had spent his life listening to the silent sky, saw it on his spectral analyzer. It was a pattern. A signal. It was a word.
By Habibullah4 months ago in Fiction
My Bones Pick Up the Signal
My Bones Pick Up the Signal By: Abdul Muhammad The silence had teeth. It was a cold, gnawing thing that bit at the edges of Elara’s consciousness the moment she turned out the light. For three years, since the Great Unraveling of her life—a divorce, a funeral, a quiet shattering—sleep had become a foreign country she could no longer visa into. Pills left her groggy and haunted. Meditation was a cruel joke. The only thing that worked was the static.
By Abdul Muhammad 4 months ago in Fiction
The Painter of Forgotten Faces. AI-Generated.
The town of Windmere was known for two things — its endless fog and its quiet secrets. On the edge of its cobblestone streets stood a small art studio, its windows always glowing softly at night. Inside lived a painter named Jonas Vale, a man both admired and feared for his peculiar gift.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Secret. AI-Generated.
In the heart of a small European town stood a little clock shop called Teller’s Timepieces. It was easy to miss — wedged between a bakery and a tailor’s store, with a dusty sign that hadn’t been repainted in decades. But those who knew the place spoke of its owner, Elias Teller, as a man who could fix any clock in the world — even those long thought broken forever.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Passenger. AI-Generated.
The 11:40 p.m. train from Crescent City to Marrow Junction was almost empty that night. Only four passengers sat scattered in the dimly lit compartment — a young woman reading a paperback, a middle-aged man staring out the window, a student with headphones, and an old lady clutching a suitcase.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
Parental Fear
The Knock She sat restlessly on the couch staring blankly at the TV. Her daughter, at the mall with her friends, was 10 minutes late, and her son, at his friend’s house, was going on 5 minutes late already. She shifted between angry and scared with each second of the clock.
By Timothy A Rowland4 months ago in Fiction
The Library at the Edge of Dreams
M Mehran No one knew when the library appeared. One morning, the townspeople of Merrinfield woke to find a tall glass building standing at the edge of the river — a place that hadn’t been there the day before. It shimmered faintly, like sunlight caught on water. There was no sign, no doorbell, only a single line etched into the glass:
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Fiction
