Script

*The Forgotten Bench*
In a small town cradled by rolling hills and thick forest, there was a wooden bench by the lake. It wasn’t grand—its green paint had peeled, one leg was uneven, and the wood bore the soft scars of time. But if you sat there long enough, you might feel something linger in the air—quiet, familiar, like the echo of a laugh carried by the wind.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Fiction
My Friend’s Last Words Came in a Dream
It’s been a year since Lily passed away, but sometimes it still feels like she might text me, or I’ll turn a corner and see her laughing in that way only she could. Grief is strange like that—it never really goes away, it just changes shape.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
The Window That Waited
In a quiet corner of the city, where the traffic never quite quieted and the buildings leaned into each other like old friends, stood a weathered apartment block with peeling paint and a rusted fire escape. It wasn’t grand or new, but it had stood for decades, holding stories in its walls.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Fiction
The Call Came After Midnight
I was half-asleep when my phone rang. The screen lit up my dark bedroom, the name flashing across it like something out of a dream — or a nightmare.
By ETS_Story5 months ago in Fiction
“The Last Paper Crane”*
In a narrow lane where the sun barely touched the ground by midday, tucked between a tea stall and an old tailor’s shop, stood a small stationery store with peeling green paint and a wooden sign that read “Baba Jan’s Papers” in faded ink.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Fiction
*The Bench by the Lake*
There was a lake on the edge of a quiet town, half-hidden behind sycamore trees and tangled ivy. It wasn’t on any tourist map, and no signs pointed to it. But those who found it—by accident or ache—often came back.
By meerjanan5 months ago in Fiction
Become A Millionaire
.1 Don't be rude in conversation. 2. Control your anger. 3. Do good to others. 4. Avoid pride. 5. Forgive others. 6. Speak softly.
By Tariq Pathan 5 months ago in Fiction
Beyond the Baby: Unveiling the True Face of the Biblical Cherubim
Beyond the Baby: Unveiling the True Face of the Biblical Cherubim When you hear the word "cherub," a single image likely comes to mind: a plump, rosy-cheeked baby with tiny wings, often seen in Renaissance art or on Valentine's Day cards. This cute, harmless figure is a cornerstone of popular culture, but it's a world away from the reality described in scripture. The true biblical cherub is a powerful, fearsome, and magnificent being, a high-ranking member of the angelic hierarchy.
By Sthephanie5 months ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Couldn't Sit Still
Gillian was seven years old and bursting with energy. Not the kind of energy that teachers like—quiet focus, calm listening, neat handwriting—but the kind that couldn't be contained in a chair or a classroom.
By Israr khan5 months ago in Fiction
He let go of my hand for a second.
A calm day, a calm river The river seemed calm that afternoon - silent, almost lifeless, like a mirror stretched out under a fading sky. But I have come to learn that the water is still the highest. We had no idea that the river could deceive us.
By Echoes of Life5 months ago in Fiction
The Chocolate Soldier . Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Pennsylvania, 1943 They called it Operation Sugar Rush and Private Joe Kowalski carried its secret in his duffel bag: 12 pounds of dark chocolate bars stamped For Military Use Only. Joe wasn’t supposed to open them. But as his troop train rattled toward New York Harbor, a sobbing girl in a patched dress changed everything. She’d lost her doll. Joe slipped her a chocolate squar. Shh, kid. This is magic rations.Her smile cracked his resolve.
By Tariq Pathan 6 months ago in Fiction
The Letter I Was Never Meant to Read
By Nadeem Shah I found the letter by accident. Tucked inside the back of my mother’s worn-out recipe book, behind a page smudged with gravy stains and faint ink scribbles about nutmeg, was an envelope that didn’t belong. It was brittle, yellowed with age, and sealed with a faded wax stamp I didn’t recognize.
By Nadeem Shah 6 months ago in Fiction