Historical
The Singing Stone.
In a picturesque village nestled between rolling hills and dense, mystical forests, the townsfolk whispered tales of an ancient legend—a legend that spoke of a magical artifact known as the Singing Stone. This stone, hidden deep within the heart of the enchanted forest that bordered their village, was rumored to possess an extraordinary power: it could sing, and in its haunting melody, it would reveal the long-lost locations of hidden treasures.
By Yussuf Haret Mohamed.2 years ago in Fiction
My Fascinating Journey with Android Robots
In the ever-evolving landscape of technology, my journey with Android robots has been a fascinating and enlightening one. From the first encounter with these humanoid machines to the deepening relationship over time, my experience has been a testament to the incredible strides made in robotics. In this article, I will share my personal odyssey with Android robots, highlighting the moments that have left a lasting impression on me.
By Zain Fonda2 years ago in Fiction
Porsche Man The English Premier West Ham
Earlier in the week Porsche Man received a tempting luring golden letter telling the surprise success story that since she was in the top four a party was going to be held on her property. Immediately she dialed the toll-free number and confirmed the engagement.
By Marc OBrien2 years ago in Fiction
Journey into the dark
A year ago, something extraordinary unfolded in my life. Final exams were looming, and I needed more preparation than ever. Usually, our school library would shut its doors at five, but with exams approaching, it transformed into a late-night haven, open until midnight for the eager students like me.
By Idara Peter2 years ago in Fiction
The Skaft Sprunga Hotel
My name’s Jimmy Stark, and I like to work. Except today. I was working at Skaft Sprunga Hotel, and usually I was checking guests in to their rooms and telling the bellhop where to bring their luggage. but instead of packaging goods like the others, I was hanging out with someone. It was a girl who I thought was cool, someone special. She had Asperger's, just like me, and we were both working at the hotel together.
By Alex H Mittelman 2 years ago in Fiction
How Did Loki End up Gifting Thor's Hammer?
Loki, the Norse Spirit of Mischief, once looked for another chance to taunt his fellow Guardians while living close to Asgard, the North Supreme Beings' capital. Sif, the wife of Thor and the protector of agriculture, the sky, and thunder, adored her gorgeous, free-flowing blonde hair. One morning, when Thor noticed her hair was damaged, he was outraged and assumed Loki—who is known for his mischievous nature—was responsible. Thor confronted Loki and demanded that Sif's golden curls be returned. Loki requested permission from Thor to visit Svartelheim because he believed that only the dwarves there could assist. The dwarves also created two other gifts for Asgard in addition to fresh golden locks for Sif. Instinctively seeking out other dwarves to produce even more wonderful creations, Loki bet they couldn't top his past presents. He pretended to be a fly to assure their failure but was unable to obstruct their efforts. The best gift was a strong hammer made by the dwarves called Mjolnir, but Loki's attempt to destroy it was unsuccessful. The gifts were given to Odin, Thor, and Freyr, and Loki owed the dwarves his head. Loki, ingeniously, claimed that he pledged his head, not his neck, and they chose to glue his mouth shut.
By Darlington Sunday2 years ago in Fiction
The Existential Woman (p34)
It took about an hour for Shanna to set up her tents. She had two, one for sleeping and one for lounging. The sleeping tent was meant to be a storage tent. It stood taller than her, which she liked for standing up in, and it was arched on the top. To put that tent together and up it takes a lot of patience. She put it up slowly and carefully, drinking as much water as she could in the heat to keep her cool and focused.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Fiction
Whispers into Madness . Content Warning.
The morning sun streamed through my bedroom window, yet its warm glow brought little comfort. Another sleepless night had left my mind clouded as I stared blankly at the ceiling. I knew what waited for me beyond these walls—the piercing stares, hushed whispers that followed wherever I walked. Like ghosts they haunted me, echoing fragments of conversations I wasn't meant to hear.
By Atugwu Racheal2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Battlefield
The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the war-torn landscape. It had been years since the conflict had begun, but the scars it left on the people were deeper than any crater. In a small village nestled between rolling hills, there lived a woman named Elena. She had witnessed firsthand the devastating effects of war on the human spirit.
By Ivan Aquino2 years ago in Fiction
