Love

Behind the Web. Winner in The Forgotten Room Challenge. Top Story - November 2025.
The cobweb stretches as if it alone holds the door closed, it also shows how long it has succeeded. Yet, a web is only an illusion regarding the passage of time. It could have been a century or a day old. However, I know for a fact how long it truly has been since eyes have seen the inside of this room.
By JBaz2 months ago in Fiction
The Rainy Season Story. AI-Generated.
The Corn Seller's Journey It was the beginning of the rainy season in a small, rural village tucked away between rolling hills and green fields. The air was thick with moisture, and the scent of wet earth filled the atmosphere. The once-dusty roads had transformed into muddy tracks, making it difficult for villagers to walk without getting their feet soaked. Yet, despite the discomfort brought by the rain, there was a certain peace in the air—an unspoken beauty in how nature seemed to cleanse everything.
By Bilal Mohammadi2 months ago in Fiction
When You Say Nothing At All
Ding! It was the fifth time his phone had gone off that day, the sound intruding into his solitude like a chainsaw in a forest. She'd called earlier, but he hadn't picked up. He'd meant to put the damn thing on silent before laying down.
By Call Me Les2 months ago in Fiction
'FRANKENSTEIN' - A LONELY SOUL (REVIEW)
In Guillermo del Toro's "Frankenstein", the monster created by anatomist Victor wants to be loved but is rejected. Guillermo del Toro is a director of the unusual, who always finds beauty in the soul behind the unusual appearance. From Hellboy, The Shape of Water to Pinocchio, the characters, whether demons, mermaids or wooden puppets, all have kind hearts. In Frankenstein, a project that has been cherished for more than two decades, the Mexican director returns to the world of science fiction stories, but this time delves into the tragedy between father and son, between creator and created creature.
By HieuDinh2 months ago in Fiction
My grandmother's ''fava''
My grandmother, Jessy, had hands that smelled of flour and age. Her small cottage in Newport transformed every meal into a celebration. "Come here, my child," she'd call out, her gentle voice sounding like the gentle gurgle of water. "Today I'll be preparing Grandma's fava."
By BHUMI2 months ago in Fiction
When You Walk Through the Door
We used to read books that told secrets. Secrets that were spoken to us through voices, reminding us of forgotten fables, etched with lessons of how to love. I remember a book that we always enjoyed reading; its cover seemed so cold and dark, but inside, many adventures unfolded.
By Ty2 months ago in Fiction
The Field Beyond the Fence
The Abernathy Academy Gleaning Club was, for all its good intentions, an exercise in optics. It was the pet project of Isabella Sterling, student council president, and the perfect bullet point for her college applications. "Community engagement," she'd declared. "It shows leadership and empathy."
By Habibullah2 months ago in Fiction
Footprints in the Dust
Nighttime was when I felt most alive. When the moonlight shone through the windows and a soft breeze would stir up glittering dust motes to dance in the silvery brilliance. The tiny pads of mouse feet tickled the floor boards, the quiet tapping of their claws against wood reverberating through me.
By Alex Wolf2 months ago in Fiction
The Room No One Enters
The taint of death lingered, even after every physical remnant had been cleaned away. Floors could be scrubbed and disinfected, carpets replaced, tiles and boards scoured, bodies removed... but the feeling remained. An odd miasma of horror, shock and bone-deep grief, tinged with the knowledge that no human had set foot in the room in years.
By Natasja Rose2 months ago in Fiction
The Watchmaker’s Silence
The shop smelled of dust and old oil. It was a comfortable smell. It was the scent of patience. Elias sat behind his heavy wooden counter. He wore a thick leather apron that had seen better days. The walls around him were filled with clocks. There were tall clocks that stood on the floor like soldiers. There were small clocks that sat on shelves. There were round clocks and square clocks.
By Muhammad Adil2 months ago in Fiction
One Fine Day, My Love
“All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. . ."
By Call Me Les2 months ago in Fiction
Falling Through Thin Ice
Lena inhaled sharply. It was a lie; it had always been a lie and always would be a lie. But she didn't care! She kissed her husband back deeply. Kissing him left her breathless, and knowing this might be their last kiss for who knows how long made it all the more precious to her.
By Call Me Les2 months ago in Fiction