Holiday

A Night, a Choice, and a Late Call: The Dark Chronicles of a Regret
The sun, a sphere of red-bloody fire, slowly sank behind the horizon, casting a blast of orange light over the dirty windows of the seventh-floor apartment. From the window, Alin watched the city, a maze of concrete and lights, as it prepared to put on its cloak of darkness. But the darkness that was descending into his soul was deeper, colder, more final than any night.
By alin butuc5 months ago in Fiction
Toronto
The City in Between" The first snow of December always hit Toronto like a gentle ambush. One moment, the sidewalks were wet with leftover rain, the next, a soft white hush blanketed the streets.
By waseem khan5 months ago in Fiction
The Call Came After Midnight
I was half-asleep when my phone rang. The screen lit up my dark bedroom, the name flashing across it like something out of a dream — or a nightmare.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
“The Last Paper Crane”*
In a narrow lane where the sun barely touched the ground by midday, tucked between a tea stall and an old tailor’s shop, stood a small stationery store with peeling green paint and a wooden sign that read “Baba Jan’s Papers” in faded ink.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
*The Bench by the Lake*
There was a lake on the edge of a quiet town, half-hidden behind sycamore trees and tangled ivy. It wasn’t on any tourist map, and no signs pointed to it. But those who found it—by accident or ache—often came back.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
Picture Perfect
What a scene! I was standing at the entrance, slightly to the side, so that I wouldn’t get knocked over by the steady stream of people coming into the park.
By Meredith Harmon6 months ago in Fiction
Panorama
I was trying to concentrate when the neighbors came out. They’re not bad, just loud. They’re the type that can’t not comment on what they see, and from their balcony, they can see everything.
By Meredith Harmon6 months ago in Fiction
*The Great Goat Escape*
In the quiet village of Chamakpur, where the days passed like slow-moving clouds and the loudest sound was usually the rooster’s morning call, one creature had a talent for turning calm into comedy: Bakri No. 47.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
The Last Bus to Terminal 9
The sky was never blue anymore. It hung low over the crumbling city like a rusted lid, filtering every ray of sunlight into a dull, sickly hue. People walked the streets with bowed heads and regulation-gray masks, their eyes hollow with routine. Screens blinked from the walls, reminding everyone: "Compliance Ensures Survival."
By Muhammad Bilal6 months ago in Fiction
*The Last Light*
In the quiet town of Crestwood, where mornings began with a soft veil of fog draping over the hills and the cobblestone streets held the echoes of generations, lived a woman named Elara. She wasn’t loud or bold, but people remembered her—her stillness, the way she listened like every word mattered, and the faint sadness in her eyes that somehow felt comforting, like the hush before snowfall.
By meerjanan6 months ago in Fiction
Secrets Buried In The Snow. Content Warning.
Red and blue lights spattered against the fresh, quiet snow that blanketed our normally boring neighborhood. These lights were different- harsh, urgent, and nothing like the twinkling Christmas lights that had promised a wonderful holiday. Cop cars were parked in front of the house across the street. My best friend’s house. Samantha’s house.
By Chy6 months ago in Fiction
I Paid a Witch to Erase My Memories But They’re Coming Back
I Paid a Witch to Erase My Memories But They’re Coming Back You don’t find witches in neon-lit cities or suburban cul-de-sacs. You find them in the cracks of reality between the forgotten and the forbidden. I didn’t seek her out because I believed in magic. I sought her because I was desperate to forget.
By Farooq Hashmi6 months ago in Fiction