Love
Reading While Lost
I slowly meander down the hall, the music trailing behind me, like my fingers along the wall. I round a corner, and the music becomes more distant. Along this hall is a double door, one of them slightly ajar. Curious, I look through the crack. I see a sliver of shelves of books. This must be the library. I gently push the door further open. Seeing the room empty, I step in, shutting the door behind me, practically muting the music.
By Katarzyna Crevan4 months ago in Fiction
You and that Rascally Rabbit. Runner-Up in The Forgotten Room Challenge.
You’re born in a rural hometown, in the backroom of a mom and pop hardware store because your mother’s water broke three weeks early while they were shopping for a new hammer because your dad needed, he just needed, that new hammer because he couldn’t get the baby room finished just right.
By Amos Glade4 months ago in Fiction
Switching to Stout
Initially, at St. James's Gate, Arthur Guinness produced ale (a lighter-colored beer, popular in Ireland at the time). However, Arthur was a visionary who observed trends. In England, especially in London, Porter beers (a type of black beer, fermented with roasted malt) had become extremely popular. Porter was more stable and better withstood long-distance transport, making it perfect for export.
By alin butuc4 months ago in Fiction
Love at the Gas Station . AI-Generated.
## Love at the Gas Station – A Story of Unexpected Feelings On the outskirts of a busy town stood a small gas station. To most travelers, it was just another stop on their journey, a place to fill the tank, grab a drink, and move on. But for the two young employees who worked there, it was much more than that. It was a place where dreams, struggles, and eventually, emotions began to unfold.
By Bilal Mohammadi4 months ago in Fiction
Fragments from the Veil — Chapter 2
The walk was short, but long enough. When we arrived at the restaurant, I thought it was plain and unimpressive — just one more locale in the plaza, with tinted windows that concealed the inside. Did I ignore the words that struck like lightning — their urgency — for this? I wondered. I glanced at Kristen, my unaware date — not for this, but for her.
By Marcellus Grey4 months ago in Fiction
“The Stranger on the Bus” . AI-Generated.
The Stranger on the Bus By : Sami ullah Maya hated her evening commute. The bus was always late, the seats smelled of damp leather, and the flickering yellow lights made everyone look like ghosts. After eight hours at a gray cubicle, all she wanted was silence, a corner seat, and a straight ride home.
By Sami ullah4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Train Home
The Last Train Home By Abdul Muhammad The station was nearly empty when I arrived. A single overhead light buzzed and flickered as I stood on the platform, clutching my backpack like it was a lifeline. The last train of the night shrieked in the distance, echoing against the concrete walls.
By Abdul Muhammad 4 months ago in Fiction
The Waiting Room of Snow
“The room would keep her secrets, but the words would travel with me.” I did not come to Amherst only to see a house. I came because my mother is gone, and poetry is the only way I still hear her voice. Emily Dickinson’s lines were her language of comfort, the words she sent to steady me in my struggles, the playful refrains she spoke when I felt unseen. Two years have passed since she left this world, yet when I read Dickinson, it is my mother who answers. So I came here, to the Homestead, to step into the silence where her voice and Emily’s still meet.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Analog Sound
The world hummed in perfect G-sharp. Elara had checked. The transport pods, the auto-servers in the food hall, even the gentle hiss of the climate control in her sterile, white living cube—all were tuned to the Global Standard Note, a frequency scientifically proven to promote calm and productivity. It was a world perfected, polished, and utterly predictable. And Elara, a Level 3 Archivist at the Global Sound Archive, was beginning to hate it.
By Pir Ashfaq Ahmad4 months ago in Fiction
The Silence of Oris – Part 1
Eric had always found the ocean comforting—until the night it answered back. He was thirty-two, a marine acoustic technician stationed at the remote research facility of Blackwater Bay. His work involved mapping sonar disturbances, tracking whales, and documenting the sounds rising from the dark Atlantic shelf. It was quiet, lonely work, but after the death of his sister two years ago, loneliness had become a tolerable companion.
By Shehzad Anjum4 months ago in Fiction
