Microfiction
Letters My Future Self Forgot to Send
Story Letters My Future Self Forgot to Send The first letter arrived on a Tuesday. It was tucked neatly between a credit card bill and a grocery flyer, its envelope yellowed at the edges, the paper thick and almost too formal for the times. My name was written in looping handwriting I didn’t recognize, but the strangest part was the postmark: March 14, 2045.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter She Never Sent
By Nadeem Shah The envelope had yellowed with time, the edges curling slightly as if it had been holding its breath for years. It sat at the bottom of the box, beneath a stack of old photographs and forgotten receipts, as though it had been waiting—patient, quiet—for someone to finally notice it.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Forgotten Library
Marin had always loved the smell of old books. There was a comfort in the dusty scent of leather-bound covers, in the quiet crackle of pages that had been turned countless times. On a rainy afternoon, while wandering through the narrow streets of her hometown, she stumbled upon a building she had never noticed before. The sign above the door read simply, The Forgotten Library.
By Henry_ Fagott6 months ago in Fiction
City of Death. Top Story - August 2025.
A stout conversation on life prompted Geraldine Snow’s bout with necromancy. This included recent dealings with amnesia, anemia and a thick, resolve to live. If only she could muster up enough strength to break out of here, then the real fun could begin.
By K.H. Obergfoll6 months ago in Fiction
