Psychological

PROGRAM LIRA
"Lira Protocol" They named her Lira—short for Liminal Reconstruction Algorithm. A name that was soft, almost musical. Suitable, for a being constructed to duplicate a life not her own.
By Subha9 months ago in Fiction
The Teacher's Desk
Who remembers being called up to the teacher's desk? The desk was usually covered up with all kinds of papers that were done at one time or another. You wonder why you were called, and notice a drawer was open. Do you peek? A desk of secrets and questions and answers to seek.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Fiction
The Student Desk
Do you remember sitting in a desk something like this one? Placing your head down and seeing all the doodles that other students wrote makes one think and then scratch their own message to pass along to other new students who will be sitting in this same seat maybe one day. Good memory.
By Mark Graham9 months ago in Fiction
The Tailor Who Sewed Souls into Coats. AI-Generated.
Prologue: The Shop That Wasn’t on the Map The sign above the door read: "MENDEL'S BESPOKE TAILORING – COATS FOR EVERY OCCASION"
By Wiki Rjm9 months ago in Fiction
The Legacy Unlocked
The rain pounded against the window with an intensity that mirrored Emily's heart. She sat in her apartment, the dim glow of the streetlight casting eerie shadows across the room. Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the phone, trying to muster the courage to dial the number.
By Tovelle9 months ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Lullaby(Part-2)
You can read out Episode 1 link in below.. Episode 2: The Melody Returns The next day, Mira got up early. Once again, the sky was bright; the storm existed just in memory. But the song remained within her, feeling somehow incomplete.
By StoryTime9 months ago in Fiction
Whispers in the Pines
The drive to Black Hollow Lake took nearly six hours from the city. As the SUV wound through pine-lined roads and past long-forgotten gas stations, the group of five friends grew quiet, lulled by the gentle rhythm of the trees and the anticipation of their long-awaited reunion. It had been nearly a decade since college, and this weekend at a remote cabin was supposed to be a nostalgic retreat—a chance to unwind, reminisce, and leave adult responsibilities behind.
By Lucian9 months ago in Fiction
Beneath the Tree That Watched Us
The Tree on the Hill On the edge of a quiet village named Kalwara, stood a tall, old peepal tree, alone on a small hill. Its branches were wide, its bark dark and cracked like an ancient face, and its leaves sang with the wind. The villagers called it “The Watching Tree”, because no matter where you stood on the hill, it felt like the tree was looking right at you.
By Muhammad Hayat9 months ago in Fiction
KING CPBRA
Loyal Nagaraj (The story of a good snake's adventure, friendship and faith) 1. Mystery One was a dense green forest, the name Shalban. A huge shawl, bird calls, a quiet village filled with jungle smells. In the middle of this village there was an ancient botanical tree, whose roots have come down in the deep of the soil, as if the history of thousands of years has been hidden.
By sagorbari9 months ago in Fiction
Understanding Common Reading Disorders
When children face persistent difﬁculties with reading, parents often wonder whether these challenges are part of typical development or a sign of something more. A reading disorder like dyslexia, which affects how the brain processes written language, could be the reason behind these struggles.
By Educational Inspiration9 months ago in Fiction
The Quiet Freedom of No Longer Performing
There is a very special freedom in not feeling the need to prove anything. As children, we played at entertainment almost all the time, it felt like. That was about attention, validation, and adoration. This, as we chased titles, likes, compliments, and love that was conditional, at times. What we longed for was for other people to recognize us, to find us attractive, to call us ''ambitious,'' ''gifted,'' ''successful,'' ''pretty.''
By Rohitha Lanka9 months ago in Fiction
Guardians and Angels | Chapter Four (Part 15)
“You never told me your mother was blind?” Kai gasped at my admission slightly as he turned toward me in the moonlight, his mouth—the mouth of sly smirks, gentle smiles, and perfect pouts—stood open as his eyebrows raised and his eyes searched for mine in the darkness. “Why didn’t you tell me, Christopher?”
By Christopher Dubbs9 months ago in Fiction