Humor
The Legend of Don Conrado
It was in this manner that he started his excursion: he wandered, at first, but as the day progressed, he found more and more of a certain purpose to his stride. The reader may thus conjecture that perhaps the overall mood that Don Conrado harboured on this morning had begun to lift, in proportion to the level of exposure to the sun, and the subsequent production of calcitriol, which flowed steadily into several of his deprived bodily organs.
By Delusions of Grandeur 3 months ago in Fiction
The Window Everyone Forgets. AI-Generated.
When Rehan moved into the quiet hill cottage, he wasn’t looking for magic — only silence. After years of city noise, heartbreak, and a life that felt too heavy to carry, he wanted peace. The cottage was old, wrapped in moss and forgotten flowers. Locals told him it once belonged to a writer who disappeared without a trace.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
The New Season
The poster went up on a Tuesday, which was never a good day for anything. The wind off the Channel had already started lifting its corners before the paste was dry. Tommy Blythe stood watching from the railings, his coat collar up against the drizzle.
By Stephen Stanley3 months ago in Fiction










