Psychological
I Was Reborn in Flames but Never Left the Fire
Let Me Tell You a Story You’ll Never Forget I was born for the third time on a night of red skies and black screams. In my village, we do not fear death. We expect it. Welcome it, even. Because here, death is never the end. We are reborn through fire every hundred years. It's our curse. Or blessing. It depends on who you ask.
By Isabella Wood7 months ago in Fiction
The Memory Seller
The Memory Seller In the neon haze of Sector 12, memories weren’t sacred anymore. They were currency. Sixteen-year-old Kael had never considered selling one—until the clinic’s final call came in. His little sister, Aria, needed an emergency transplant. The cost? Unreachable.
By Musawir Shah7 months ago in Fiction
Echoes of a Life Not Lived
When Olivia Harper opened her eyes, everything felt wrong. The ceiling was not hers. It was smooth and white instead of the familiar cracked plaster of her tiny apartment. The morning light that spilled in was too soft, filtered through elegant linen curtains—not the threadbare shades she remembered. And the bed… was enormous. King-sized. Crisp linen sheets. Too clean.
By Shakespeare Jr7 months ago in Fiction
My Robot Boyfriend is Broken
In the year 2090, love had a price tag. Loneliness was an epidemic, and society finally gave in. Robots—designed for companionship—became legal partners for humans. You could custom-order a “partner” to fit your personality, your fears, even your pain. No cheating. No lying. Just someone made to love you exactly how you wanted.
By Shakespeare Jr7 months ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Tide: A Story Told in Shells
At first glance, the image is simple—serene, even. A ceramic bowl, resting gently on the damp sand, cradles an exquisite collection of seashells. They sit nestled together like quiet thoughts, each one shaped by time and tide. Beyond this peaceful arrangement, the shoreline stretches toward a glowing horizon, golden with the touch of evening light. A lighthouse stands distant and steady, a silent witness to the sea’s ever-shifting moods.
By Fazal Malik7 months ago in Fiction
Underwater Cities Don’t Have Traffic Jams
I once read a silly-sounding line in a science magazine: “Underwater cities don’t have traffic jams.” It was part of a speculative piece about futuristic civilizations—utopias under the sea with clear domes, no air pollution, and no honking horns. At the time, I laughed. But strangely, that line stuck with me.
By Fazal Hadi7 months ago in Fiction
The Quiet Compression. AI-Generated.
You see, the Greys don’t erase planets. They compress them. Into one person. Osmosis isn’t the right word, but it’s close enough. They pour every ounce of being—every scream, every soil microbe, every wrong goodbye—into that final witness. It steeps in the marrow.
By Jesse Shelley7 months ago in Fiction
The Wandering Mind of Willow
In a quiet meadow surrounded by silver birch trees and soft rolling hills, there lived a rabbit named Willow. He was not like the other rabbits who spent their days hopping around collecting food or playing in the sun. Willow was different. He had a habit—some called it strange, others charming—of getting lost in his thoughts.
By Fazal Malik7 months ago in Fiction
Wings of Joy
In a meadow kissed by golden sunlight, nestled between whispering trees and a winding stream, lived a butterfly named Zara. She wasn't just any butterfly — her wings shimmered with the colors of sunrise and sunset, with flecks of silver and blue that sparkled when she flew. But it wasn’t just her beauty that made her special. Zara was known across the valley for something even more wonderful — she loved playing with flowers, all the time, every day.
By Fazal Malik7 months ago in Fiction
