Microfiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 8
Chapter 8: Gears of Revelation The pounding of metal footsteps still echoed in Anya’s ears, a phantom percussion that drowned out even the city’s relentless hum. Silas, his face grim, pushed onward through the labyrinthine tunnels, his hand cannon still raised, every shadow a potential threat. Anya stumbled after him, the metallic tang of ozone burning her nostrils, the memory of the automaton’s cold, calculating gaze seared into her mind. Each breath felt like swallowing dust.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 7
The corridor collapsed inward with a groan of tortured metal, spewing dust and sparking wires like a wounded beast. Anya stumbled, Silas’s grip a lifeline as the floor tilted beneath them. They scrambled back, coughing, as the passage transformed into a solid wall of gears, grinding against each other in a senseless, deafening symphony.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 6
The gates groaned open like the sigh of a long-forgotten titan, their rusted edges scraping against stone with a sound that vibrated deep in Anya’s bones. A cool, stale breath washed over them, carrying the scent of dust, decay, and the faint, metallic tang of old oil. It was the smell of history, of forgotten grandeur, and of something else – a subtle undercurrent of pain that resonated within Anya, echoing her own unspoken fears.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 5
The air, thick and heavy with the cloying sweetness of Lumina bloom, pressed down on them like a humid shroud. Days of relentless travel had etched themselves onto Silas's face, deepening the lines around his eyes, dusting his beard with a fine layer of ochre earth. Anya, however, seemed invigorated, her tarnished copper eyes gleaming with an almost feverish intensity. She moved with a newfound purpose, her senses heightened, as if the very ground vibrated with secrets only she could decipher.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 4
The dawn arrived grudgingly, painting the eastern sky in bruised purples and sickly greens. Anya stood beside Silas at the edge of Oakhaven, the weight of her threadbare pack a physical manifestation of the responsibility she now carried. The villagers, faces etched with a mixture of fear and relief, watched from a distance, their silence a heavy shroud. Even Elder Mael, who'd once held her hand when she was small and terrified of the storm, wouldn’t meet her eye. She was leaving a piece of herself behind, a piece she wasn't sure she could ever reclaim.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 3
Chapter 3: The Whispers Grow Louder The elders’ meeting hall smelled of stale pipeweed and simmering resentment. Anya stood by the warped wooden door, feeling smaller than she ever had. The room was thick with the silence that follows a foregone conclusion, the kind that suffocated hope before it could even sprout. Silas Blackwood, radiating a quiet, unsettling confidence, stood before the gathered villagers. He had the air of a hawk circling a field of mice, assessing the weakest points, the most readily exploitable fears.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 2
Chapter 2: Blackwood's Bargain The morning light, fractured by dust motes swirling in Anya's workshop, felt accusatory. It illuminated the clutter, the scraps of metal that were both her sanctuary and her prison, each discarded gear a silent witness to her isolation. Silas Blackwood stood amidst it all, an unwelcome intruder in her carefully constructed world. His presence was a discordant note, a harsh clang against the gentle hum of her internal world.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Secrets of The Forgotten City - Part 1
Chapter 1: Whispers of Rust The wind carried dust and the metallic tang of long-dead machinery across the Blasted Lands, stinging Anya’s eyes as she wrestled with the broken water pump. Each groan of the rusted gears was a lament, a faded echo of Aerilon, the clockwork city slumbering beneath their feet. She tightened a bolt, the metal cold against her grease-stained fingers, listening. Not just to the pump’s struggling rhythm, but to the whispers beneath, the faint, fractal symphony of the city’s slumbering heart.
By hiteshsinh solanki10 months ago in Fiction
The Dead 5
She was walking on before him so lightly and so erect that he longed to run after her noiselessly, catch her by the shoulders and say something foolish and affectionate into her ear. She seemed to him so frail that he longed to defend her against something and then to be alone with her. Moments of their secret life together burst like stars upon his memory. A heliotrope envelope was lying beside his breakfast-cup and he was caressing it with his hand. Birds were twittering in the ivy and the sunny web of the curtain was shimmering along the floor: he could not eat for happiness. They were standing on the crowded platform and he was placing a ticket inside the warm palm of her glove. He was standing with her in the cold, looking in through a grated window at a man making bottles in a roaring furnace. It was very cold. Her face, fragrant in the cold air, was quite close to his; and suddenly he called out to the man at the furnace: "Is the fire hot, sir?"
By Favour Nyimbili10 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter: A Story of Second Chances
Mara had continuously accepted that enchantment didn't exist. It was a child's dream, a whisper from ancient pixie stories. That conviction remained consistent until the day she gotten a letter that shouldn't have been conceivable.
By Maharuf Islam10 months ago in Fiction
Unbelievable!
“What? You like boys?” The little first grade girl named Jordyn frantically shrieked at her friend Maggie during recess. Maggie held her head down low like she was about to undergo her life sentence to prison for her crime. She braced herself because she knew the wrath of Jordyn wasn’t over yet. Sure enough, Jordyn continued…
By Rowan Finley 10 months ago in Fiction
