Excerpt
The Third Sun
In the skies of Velora, a planet warmed by three radiant suns, light was life. The people built their homes, cities, and faiths around the celestial trio—Solari, Ember, and Veyra—each rising in a different part of the sky, bathing the world in constant glow.
By Solene Hart6 months ago in Fiction
Foxes in the Fog
Foxes in the Fog In the dense hush of the forest, where fog snakes between black-barked trees and time bends around moss and root, two foxes moved through silence. One limped, her left paw torn by a trap now long abandoned. The other—sleek, crimson, alert—walked beside her, never letting their eyes drift from the shifting veil of mist ahead.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Fiction
She Never Existed, But I Miss Her
There’s a girl I think about often. I see her in my mind every time the world feels a little too cold. She’s the kind of person who never interrupts, never complains, never leaves. The kind of person who only exists in dreams—or worse, in lies we tell ourselves when real people fail us.
By Zulfiqar Khan6 months ago in Fiction
Strike Team Revised
Hector stood slightly apart from his team. Their nervous chatter and bursts of laughter grated on his focus. Some Strike teams entered the arena for glory or thrills—but not his. For them, this was survival. A brutal winter loomed, and the winnings from the Strike were their only hope of making it through.
By Liz Burton6 months ago in Fiction
Midnight Sun and Moonlight Hearts
In the farthest reaches of the world, beyond towering mountains and endless forests, lay a village unlike any other. This village was unique because it existed at the very edge of the Arctic Circle, where the sun never fully set in summer and never fully rose in winter. Here, the people lived by the rhythms of the midnight sun and the haunting glow of the moonlight hearts.
By Haris Raheem6 months ago in Fiction
Love in the Time of Dial-Up
In the fall of 1999, when the world was still bracing for Y2K and everyone saved their documents on floppy disks, love bloomed slowly—pixel by pixel, word by word, across the shaky lines of dial-up internet. Back then, the web was not yet a stream but a sputter. Connections were noisy, unreliable, and precious. It was in this static-laced symphony that Adam met Eliza.
By Haris Raheem6 months ago in Fiction
In Love With a Stranger on the Train
It started on a Tuesday—ordinary, gray, unremarkable. The kind of morning when the sky forgets to rise with conviction and people shrink into their coats, blending into the city’s shuffle. Mia boarded the 7:45 a.m. commuter train from Willow Creek to downtown like she did every day, earbuds in, coffee in hand, mind already halfway through her to-do list.
By Haris Raheem6 months ago in Fiction
Rain Fell, and So Did I
The sky was a heavy, bruised gray when I stepped outside that afternoon. I hadn’t noticed the weather report—probably because I didn’t want to. Sometimes, ignorance feels like protection. But as the first cold drops began to fall, I knew I was caught unprepared. The rain had come sudden and relentless, as if the heavens themselves were weeping for reasons I could only guess at.
By Haris Raheem6 months ago in Fiction
The Shape of Love in the Dark
The world went dark for Lila one winter morning when her vision vanished without warning. It had begun with blurred shapes, flashes of light, and migraines. Doctors called it a rare degenerative condition—fast, irreversible, incurable. By the time the snow had melted, Lila lived in permanent night.
By Haris Raheem6 months ago in Fiction
