Fan Fiction
Dream-Sculpted Mother
The night I created my mother, the sky was unusually quiet. Stars shimmered like secrets waiting to be heard, and the moon hung low, as if it wanted to watch what I was about to do. I stood alone on the rooftop, palms open, heart trembling with an ache only a child without a mother could understand.
By Mohammad umarabout a month ago in Fiction
When Darkness Taught Me to See
The Night Everything Went Black I still remember the exact moment the world went dark. Not just the physical dark—the kind that creeps into a room when the power goes out—but the emotional one. The kind that settles into your chest quietly, like it has every right to stay there.
By Fazal Hadiabout a month ago in Fiction
The Gospel of Gumption
The assignment from her editor was a footnote, a punishment for having annoyed a major advertiser. “Go to Gumption, Vermont,” the email read. “Cover their ‘Fall Furnival.’ Yes, with a ‘U.’ File 500 words on the quirky local color. Try not to poison the well.”
By Habibullahabout a month ago in Fiction
20 Rare Michael Jackson Facts You Probably Didn’t Know”
Have you ever thought you knew everything about Michael Jackson? Think again. The King of Pop stands as one of history’s most famous entertainers, and yet his life was chock-full of secrets most have never uncovered. From hidden talents and private hobbies to surprising facts about his music and personality, Michael Jackson's story is far more fascinating than anyone might imagine.
By iftikhar Ahmadabout a month ago in Fiction
The Room Where She Wasn’t Supposed to Hear 🌒👂
Lina Keller never thought of herself as the type people whispered about. She drifted through life with the soft-footed grace of someone who always tried not to take up too much space. At work she blended in quietly but efficiently. In friendships she offered more listening than speaking. In her own mind she was pleasant and polite and forgettable in a harmless way.
By Karl Jacksonabout a month ago in Fiction
The Halazia Chronicles
Hongjoong worked alone in his cramped room, surrounded by wires, half-finished beats, and the cold glow of his laptop screen, the cursor blinking like a dying star. Midnight had folded itself around the tiny space, the walls thin enough to hear the city sigh in its sleep. It wasn’t much, but it was his—his first real space since leaving home to chase a dream his parents never understood.
By Guia Noconabout a month ago in Fiction
The Season of the Honkers
Kael was born for the high, silent corridors of the sky. A Sandhill Crane, his life was a map of ethereal places: the tundra of Sibéria, the marshes of Nebraska, the skies in between. His world was one of graceful, deliberate movement and low, rattling calls that echoed over wetlands. He flew in a neat, arrow-shaped formation with his own kind, a symphony of coordinated wings.
By Habibullahabout a month ago in Fiction
