Holiday

Every night I take the elevator to the basement… even though we don’t have one
Hey everyone. I work nights at a mid-range hotel off the highway. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean, quiet, and usually empty after midnight. I’m the night porter — basically, I clean up the lobby, restock towels, handle laundry, and do any random maintenance jobs that come up.
By V-Ink Stories2 months ago in Fiction
The Spirit Box (10). Content Warning.
Chapter 10: The Kidnapping As I walked into Chief's office, I noticed he was upset, and also had a small, ornate box on his desk. "Is that what I think it is?" I asked, intrigued.
By Alex H Mittelman 2 months ago in Fiction
Loneliness and chess
I thought I'd be playing the last game of chess in my life against myself. But in my old age, fate played a trick on me. "I moved White toward him without saying anything. I wanted to see what he would do. He reached for a pawn and moved e2-e4. Classic. I responded symmetrically. We played without a word. He didn't look at me once, and I only looked at him out of the corner of my eye."
By piotrmak2 months ago in Fiction
The Clockmaker’s Gift
In Ravelle, time had a slower pace. The streets between the stone houses were meandering like the ribbon streets and every evening, in the air, the smell of bread from the old bakery and the faint scent of rain. At the very center of the town was to be found a little shop with a faded sign reading:
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Call of the Minaret
The early sun had just started to rise from behind the house tops of Medina when Bilal woke up. The air was still cool and heavy with the smell of sand and date palms. For a moment, he listened to the faint sounds of the city waking -- the distant bleating of goats, the clatter of water pots and the quiet hum of life returning after the silence of the night.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert
And the wind sang along the dunes, and Malik took a brush against his shabby cloak, and the desert sand was like tiny sparks on his face. This was hours of walking on part of him, in pursuit of the horizon that kept on pushing away. The sun was now setting, and coloured the sky with fire and gold.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
Trick or Threat
Renee gazes at the live feed from their doorbell, her knuckles white on her phone... She watches the trick-or-treaters-- a witch, and a firefighter. They look to be about 6 and 7 respectively.
By Sam Spinelli2 months ago in Fiction
The Night I Realized Love Wasn’t Meant To Save Me
I used to believe love was supposed to be the thing that rescued us. The thing that filled every empty space inside a person. The thing that fixed the parts of life that felt broken. I believed that love was the answer to loneliness, to fear, to the type of quiet sadness that sits in your chest like permanent weight.
By Umar Farooq2 months ago in Fiction
The Light of the Desert: The Story of Bilal ibn Rabah (RA)
Heavy with the sun, with its rays scorching the desert into an oven of light and heat, the sun stood over Mecca. In a small corner near the Kaaba, a man was lying on the ground chained to the burning sand, his back raw from the whip, his lips dry and cracked. Each inhalation was punctuated by pain but from his shaking lips was uttered a word that would not die.
By Nusuki2 months ago in Fiction
Moon’s Gift to the Blind Girl
Elara’s world was not dark. People called her blind, but that was their word, born from their own fear of the absence of light. Her world was built of sound and scent and texture. The rough bark of the old oak was a story of strength. The scent of rain on dry earth was a complex symphony. But the one thing that remained an abstract concept was the Moon.
By Habibullah3 months ago in Fiction
The Devil’s Revenge
Three Halloweens had come and gone. The Devil was ready it was time for revenge. He had been sifting through the ashes of Devil’s Manor and had been able to renew enough of the house to give him the will power to go on. However he was hungry and he needed to feed on blood before his big debut on Halloween. Oh, yes you betcha he was ready and chomping at the bit.
By Rasma Raisters3 months ago in Fiction
The Sound of Rain That Never Falls. AI-Generated.
No one in Hollowbridge could remember the last time it had rained. The clouds gathered every evening, dark and heavy, but no drop ever touched the ground. People called it The Dry Storm, a strange curse that made thunder echo but never bless the soil.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction