Excerpt

The House at the End of Memory
I was eleven the first time I saw the house. It perched at the end of a road swallowed by trees, a path my grandmother told me never to follow. “Where the branches hush the world,” she’d whisper, “some silences carry echoes louder than screams.”
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Fiction
The Empty Chair
I’ve set the table again, the same way I always do—four plates, four forks, four glasses. But there’s still an extra chair. One that no one touches. One that no one dares to pull out.
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Fiction
When He Opened His Eyes. Content Warning.
>>>***Inspired by something I saw in the eyes of a stranger once.*** We were laughing. That’s what I remember first. Not the screech of tires or the shatter of glass—just the sound of Jackson’s laugh echoing through the cab of his beat-up blue Tacoma, windows down, late summer air breezing in.
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Fiction
My Grandmother’s Mirror Only Reflects the Dead
The Mirror’s First Secret I almost sold the mirror the day after Grandma Lillian’s funeral. It was an ugly thing—a heavy oak frame carved with twisting vines, the glass smoky with age. But Mom insisted: "She wanted you to have it. Said it was special."
By MUHAMMAD Abbas7 months ago in Fiction
One Night. Top Story - June 2025. Content Warning.
**Inspired by a dream that I had last night** We were coming home late from a dinner with a group of friends on a Thursday night. It was just a regular day for us. We both had worked and decided that we wanted to go out afterwards. He was driving our old brown Explorer when we were hit by a drunk driver.
By Chloe Rose Violet 🌹7 months ago in Fiction
Instructions for the Next Reincarnation
Issued by The Soul Continuity Bureau | Cycle ID: 743-B | Clearance: Rebirth Pending Congratulations on completing your previous incarnation. While we noted multiple deviations from your soul’s original blueprint (see Appendix D: "The Year You Chose Silence"), you are hereby approved for another cycle of sentient experience. To enhance your progression and avoid repeating lessons already taught (and ignored), please review the following instructions carefully before entering the body.
By Hammad khan7 months ago in Fiction
The Day Humanity Died
Story: It didn’t happen suddenly. No explosions, no alien invasions, no nuclear fallout. The end began in whispers. Not of war… but of disinterest.
By TrueVocal7 months ago in Fiction
She Called Me ‘Mom’—But I Was Just the Nurse
It was 2 a.m. in the ER when she held my hand and said something that broke me. --- I’ve worked night shifts in the ER for over seven years. I’ve seen people come and go—some make it, some don’t. It’s not that I’m numb to it. You just learn how to build a wall between your heart and your hands. You show up, do the work, and keep going.
By Izazkhan7 months ago in Fiction
Missing You
So maybe signing on for a work trip in New York wasn’t my best idea. I really didn’t do it because of Seren. I just thought that maybe if I ran into her while I was here, it would be fate. Or maybe just seeing a glimpse of her would settle the weight that had been in my stomach since we broke up. The first few days I focused on work. I didn’t think of her. I stayed mostly in my hotel room and only ventured out for food. But today is a free day, and I find myself at places I think she’d like. Like my soul is trying to pull me toward her without my knowing. I get lunch at an Italian restaurant that specializes in vegetarian cuisine. She doesn’t eat meat. I sit on a bench in the park with absolutely no shade in sight. She loves the sun. I walk past and through bookstores, wandering aimlessly. She says books find a direct line to her soul.
By Raine Neal7 months ago in Fiction
Imagination
When Maya was seven, she built a castle out of couch cushions and ruled over it with a crown made from silver pipe cleaners. To the world, it was an untidy living room on a rainy afternoon, but to Maya, it was a fortress of magic and possibility. She never needed much—just a quiet corner, a spark of thought, and the freedom to let it wander.
By Nomi7 months ago in Fiction
The Promise I Made to a Stranger
I wasn’t planning to be at the train station that day. A canceled meeting and a delayed phone call led me there—just me, my notebook, and too many thoughts buzzing in my mind. The benches were mostly empty, except for a woman with silver hair and kind eyes. She looked like someone’s grandmother, waiting patiently with a brown leather bag clutched in her lap.
By Izazkhan7 months ago in Fiction
A Time Traveler’s Debacle
The year was 2419 when Elias Vane initiated the return sequence. He had spent eleven years in the 14th century, cloaked in anonymity, watching the Black Death sweep through Europe and reshape the course of civilization. His mission: observe, never interfere. He followed the rules- mostly.
By Emma Ade7 months ago in Fiction