Holiday

The Last Human Coder
The Last Human Coder By the year 2040, human coding was history. Artificial intelligence had surpassed every human benchmark in software development. The AIs didn’t just write applications they designed architectures, debugged themselves, and optimized global systems in real time. Entire companies were run without a single human developer.
By Farooq Hashmi5 months ago in Fiction
The Day Ads Started Talking Back
It started with a banner ad. When ignoring pop-ups was no longer an option, the internet changed forever. At first, Jason thought it was a glitch. He was scrolling through an article when a flashing banner for a fitness app appeared at the top of his screen. Nothing unusual there. But then the banner changed, and the text read:
By Farooq Hashmi5 months ago in Fiction
The Clock Stopped at 3:07
The night it started, I thought it was just a coincidence. I had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV still on, when a sharp click jolted me awake. I glanced over at the old clock on the wall—the one my grandmother left me. Its second hand had frozen, pointing straight at the seven.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Power of AI: How Artificial Intelligence is Shaping the Future of Humanity
The Power of AI: How Artificial Intelligence is Shaping the Future of Humanity --- A New Era of Intelligence Artificial Intelligence (AI) is no longer the stuff of science fiction—it’s here, woven into the fabric of our daily lives. At its core, AI is the simulation of human intelligence by machines. It can learn, adapt, and even make decisions, sometimes faster and more accurately than people. What was once imagined in futuristic novels is now a reality: machines that recognize faces, translate languages, diagnose diseases, and even create art. The rise of AI represents a turning point in human history, comparable to the invention of electricity or the internet.
By Muhammad Ibrahim5 months ago in Fiction
Route 96
“It’s real kind of you to help me find the road again,” the man said with a tired smile. “My car broke down out here today. Can’t even tell what went wrong with that old piece of junk. What was your name again?”
By Kamran Khan5 months ago in Fiction
"The Passenger Who Wasn’t There"
It was raining the night it happened, one of those slow, steady rains that makes the road shine like black glass. I was driving home from work, tired, half-listening to the radio when I saw her.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Love Thief. Top Story - August 2025.
As the sun lies down to sleep, figures dance across green fields dotted with daffodils. Twisting and turning, they meet in the evening’s cool breeze. Staring into each other’s eyes, they feel the weight of the universe bear down on their hearts. The shaking in their knees makes them shiver in the summer air. They enter each other without care as they stare into each other’s souls. In love with each other’s drawing gaze, as time scrolls by, it turns to a haze.
By Atomic Historian5 months ago in Fiction
The Story in Our Hair
Maya sat in front of the mirror, her fingers twirling the same stubborn lock of hair that always slipped loose no matter how she styled it. Tomorrow was her cousin’s wedding, and the thought of walking into the venue with hundreds of eyes on her filled her with a strange mix of dread and anticipation. She’d spent the past week scrolling through endless photos of updos, braids, and sleek ponytails, but every style seemed to carry its own story—stories she wasn’t sure she could wear.
By Princess Ladly5 months ago in Fiction
The Summer I Bought My First Laptop
The summer break had just begun at our med school. The campus was buzzing with students rushing to catch their buses and trains home. In the middle of all the goodbyes, I left without hugging my best friend, Umar. I don’t know why—it wasn’t intentional, but as soon as I reached home, my phone buzzed.
By noor ul amin5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Train
Rain whispered against the station roof, a soft rhythm beneath the stillness of Platform 7. Anaya sat alone—though not quite alone—on a worn wooden bench, her fingers tracing the edge of a train ticket like it might vanish if she stopped holding on.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Fiction
She Called Me-Two Years After I Buried Her
I wasn’t supposed to hear her voice again. Not after the funeral. Not after the dirt hit the coffin and we all stood there in silence, trying to believe she was really gone.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
A New Year's Eve Catastrophe
It was New Year’s Eve, and the party was just beginning downtown. Snow was still on the ground from the Christmas blizzard the week before, a slight breeze blowing through the air - not enough to be annoying, but enough to knock back the hoods of the coats of Jackie, Libby, Mary, and Genevieve - four of the best of friends since childhood.
By A. Alexis Kreiser5 months ago in Fiction