Classical

"Crimson Tide: The Day the Ocean Took Kyle"
beef jerky, maple bourbon flavored, and offered it to his son. Kyle snuffed the gesture and moaned in annoyance. He hated jerky, all flavors, and his father knew that. He had no choice. He was going to have to wait to eat.
By Saeed Ullah 7 months ago in Fiction
The Handmaid's Tale
I was not always named Offred. Once, I had a name. A job. A husband. A daughter. A choice. Now, I am property. A vessel. A Handmaid.
By Hamza Habib7 months ago in Fiction
“She Waited by the Window”. AI-Generated.
In a small town, there lived an old woman named Amara. Every day, from morning till sunset, she sat near the window of her little house, looking at the road. People in the neighborhood often said,
By Shah Nawaz Safi7 months ago in Fiction
Beneath the Still Sky. AI-Generated.
The sky above Elowen was beautiful—perfect, in fact. A sheet of endless blue, motionless for as long as anyone could remember. The villagers called it The Stillness, a gift from the gods, or perhaps the price of peace. But for Aris Vale, it felt like a lie. He stared up at it now, lying on the grass behind the school’s weather-beaten fence, his telescope beside him, untouched. “Still not blinking,” he muttered. “Still not moving. Just... still.”
By Adil Nawaz7 months ago in Fiction
The Girl at Platform Nine
The Girl at Platform Nine Written by Javeed 🚉 Prologue: A Glimpse in the Fog Platform Nine at the old city station was quieter than usual. The mist curled through the iron beams and drifted low around the benches, wrapping everything in a sleepy gray veil. Most people passed by without noticing the girl sitting alone at the far end. But I did.
By Moonlit Letters7 months ago in Fiction
He Died 8 Years Ago. Then He Left a Voicemail
He Died 8 Years Ago. Then He Left a Voicemail Written by Iqbal Raza It started with a notification. Lena was in the middle of folding laundry when her phone buzzed. A voicemail. That wasn’t unusual — except this one was from a number she hadn’t seen in years. A number she had deleted, blocked, and buried with the man who once owned it.
By Moonlit Letters7 months ago in Fiction
Why? The Obsession That Drives Us—And When to Let It Go
Introduction: The Power of a Three-Letter Word We ask it as toddlers. We whisper it in the dark. We scream it at the universe when life feels unfair.
By Muhammad Abbas khan7 months ago in Fiction
The House Where Time Sleeps. AI-Generated.
At the edge of Thorn hollow village, where the trees grew thick with silver moss and the wind never howled, stood an ancient manor, half-swallowed by ivy and shadow. The villagers called it cursed. They said the clocks inside had never moved—not for over a hundred years. They whispered that if you listened too closely near its doorstep, you'd hear the ticking of memories instead of time.
By Adil Nawaz7 months ago in Fiction
The Girl in 2D. AI-Generated.
I. Arrival on Floor 2D That Wednesday afternoon should’ve been routine. I was new to the office building—just another intern with a passcard and too much anxiety. The elevator was slow, creaking as it rose, and when it stopped between the second and third floor, the doors opened to something unexpected.
By Fareed khan7 months ago in Fiction
Echoes Beyond the Silence. AI-Generated.
Grace stood in the doorway of their childhood home, suitcase in hand, the late afternoon sun painting golden lines on the floorboards. Liam’s face was set in frustration; he still loved her too much to let her go without a fight. “Grace, please,” he said, voice cracking, “don’t go. Not now.”
By Dz Bhai7 months ago in Fiction
''In My Mind, A New World''
In my mind, a new world blooms—not with noise and chaos, but with a quiet kind of magic. The kind that lives between thoughts, beneath dreams, and behind every closed eye.
By Israr khan7 months ago in Fiction
"The Last Lemon Tree in Arizona" . AI-Generated.
Chapter 1: Dust and Memory The desert didn’t forgive. It remembered. Elvis Harper felt that memory in his bones as he shuffled across the cracked earth of Sulphur Springs Valley. At 6:03 AM, the Arizona sun already pressed down like a branding iron. His boots kicked up puffs of alkali dust that stung his eyes — or maybe it was the ghosts.
By Dz Bhai7 months ago in Fiction