Microfiction
Imprisoned. Top Story - October 2025.
The sea, the sky, the stars, the sun; all look within reach, within the realms of possibilities. Like I can reach out with mine own hands, and pluck the glittering lights from the night sky. Or caress the gentle white lines of foam that scatter themselves across the vast endless sea.
By Liam Storm3 months ago in Fiction
The Coffee Cup. AI-Generated.
Every morning at exactly 7:10, Elias Mwangi opened the doors to his tiny café on River Street in Nairobi. The brass bell above the door jingled softly, echoing through the narrow shop that smelled of roasted beans, cinnamon, and rain-soaked wood.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
The Sound of Rain. AI-Generated.
It had been raining for three days straight in Lusaka, and the sound had become a kind of background music to Naomi’s thoughts. She sat by the window of her late father’s house, watching water run down the glass, tracing the same paths over and over again — like memories replaying themselves.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
The Last Train to Miray. AI-Generated.
The train station of Miray hadn’t seen a real crowd in years. The walls were cracked, the benches splintered, and the ticket window covered in dust. Once, this place had been the heart of a small but thriving mining town. Now, it was only the heart of one old man who refused to let it die.
By shakir hamid3 months ago in Fiction
Dear Susan
Dear Susan Not sleeping again? Is that because of me? Can you see me at the edges of your bed? Dark, hooded, darting in the corner of your vision? I bring with me an atonal cello soundtrack that vibrates your chest. I’m so close you can hear the bow cutting the strings.
By Rachel Robbins3 months ago in Fiction
