Microfiction
Two Hearts, One Soul
There was a legend in the quiet village of Hollowbrook, whispered by elders around firelit hearths: “A person with two hearts cannot be broken.” The tale was not of fantasy or magic, but of a rare soul whose heart carried two opposing forces, one filled with unrelenting joy, the other with lingering pain. This was the story of Selene, a woman whose heart beat to the rhythm of dual emotions, shaping her life in ways no one could understand.
By Solene Hart7 months ago in Fiction
Gold in the Backyard: Real Stories of Accidental Treasure Hunters
Most of us dream about striking it rich someday—maybe winning the lottery or stumbling across a rare collectible. But for a lucky few, wealth didn’t come from Wall Street or hard work. It came from dirt, dust, and dumb luck… right in their own backyards.
By Shoaib Afridi7 months ago in Fiction
Midnight Sun and Moonlight Hearts
In the farthest reaches of the world, beyond towering mountains and endless forests, lay a village unlike any other. This village was unique because it existed at the very edge of the Arctic Circle, where the sun never fully set in summer and never fully rose in winter. Here, the people lived by the rhythms of the midnight sun and the haunting glow of the moonlight hearts.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction
Love in the Time of Dial-Up
In the fall of 1999, when the world was still bracing for Y2K and everyone saved their documents on floppy disks, love bloomed slowly—pixel by pixel, word by word, across the shaky lines of dial-up internet. Back then, the web was not yet a stream but a sputter. Connections were noisy, unreliable, and precious. It was in this static-laced symphony that Adam met Eliza.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction
In Love With a Stranger on the Train
It started on a Tuesday—ordinary, gray, unremarkable. The kind of morning when the sky forgets to rise with conviction and people shrink into their coats, blending into the city’s shuffle. Mia boarded the 7:45 a.m. commuter train from Willow Creek to downtown like she did every day, earbuds in, coffee in hand, mind already halfway through her to-do list.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction
Rain Fell, and So Did I
The sky was a heavy, bruised gray when I stepped outside that afternoon. I hadn’t noticed the weather report—probably because I didn’t want to. Sometimes, ignorance feels like protection. But as the first cold drops began to fall, I knew I was caught unprepared. The rain had come sudden and relentless, as if the heavens themselves were weeping for reasons I could only guess at.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction
The Shape of Love in the Dark
The world went dark for Lila one winter morning when her vision vanished without warning. It had begun with blurred shapes, flashes of light, and migraines. Doctors called it a rare degenerative condition—fast, irreversible, incurable. By the time the snow had melted, Lila lived in permanent night.
By Haris Raheem7 months ago in Fiction
