Script
Animal Farm (George Orwell) - Chapter- 9 (Novel)
As the harsh winter passes and spring arrives on Animal Farm, the animals' hardships intensify, yet their hope struggles to survive. The animals, especially the hardworking ones like Boxer and Clover, work tirelessly to rebuild the windmill, which was destroyed in the brutal Battle of the Windmill. Despite their exhaustion and lack of food, they press forward with faith in the promise of a better future.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Fiction
Animal Farm (George Orwell) - Chapter- 7 (Novel)
The winter on Animal Farm is harsher than ever, and the animals are suffering greatly. Food is scarce, and the cold cuts deep into their bones, but Napoleon’s regime continues to press on. To maintain appearances and maintain control, Napoleon uses propaganda, deception, and brute force to suppress dissent and silence the truth.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Fiction
Animal Farm (George Orwell) - Chapter- 6 (Novel)
As Animal Farm's second year of freedom begins, the animals face new hardships and challenges. The winter is harsh, and food supplies are dangerously low. Nevertheless, Napoleon insists that work on the windmill must continue without a break, promising to lighten their burden once it is completed. The animals work harder than ever, often toiling from dawn to dusk, but their rations are reduced and the cold bites harder. Boxer, the hardworking carthorse, adopts his new maxims with even greater dedication: "I will work harder," and "Napoleon is always right." His strength and passion become the backbone of the farm's efforts, but even Boxer begins to tire.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Fiction
The Mirror’s Truth
In the faded blue light of dawn, Eli lay awake, listening to the shrill alarm clock echoing through the paper-thin walls of their cramped apartment. The ceiling above him was cracked, the paint peeling in lazy curls, and the only warmth in the room came from the golden sliver of sunlight fighting its way through threadbare curtains. The air was thick with the scent of burnt toast and cheap coffee—his mother’s signature breakfast, a smell that clung to everything they owned.
By Nauman Hassan Khan6 months ago in Fiction
There is peace even in the strom
The rain hammered the tin roof of the old farmhouse in relentless sheets, each drop like a thousand impatient fingers drumming a frantic rhythm. Outside, the wind tore through the towering pines, bending their tops until they seemed on the verge of breaking. Willow Creek had been caught off guard by the sudden late summer storm, turning dusty roads into muddy trails and sending the townsfolk scrambling for shelter.
By Nauman Hassan Khan6 months ago in Fiction
To Be the Best, You Must Handle the Worst
The rain hammered relentlessly against the cracked windshield of Aisha’s 2009 Honda Civic as she sat idling at a red light on the edge of downtown Oakland. It was 6:47 p.m., and the November sky had already surrendered to darkness, the city’s glow muted beneath thick storm clouds. Her phone buzzed in the cupholder, but she ignored it, knowing it was probably her boss, Marla, texting about yet another shift at the diner. At 29, a single mother, Aisha carried the weight of the world on her shoulders—heavier than the storm pressing down on her car. Her daughter, Layla, was home with Aisha’s mother, likely curled up with a book, waiting for her to return from her second job as a rideshare driver. The words her father once told her echoed sharply in her mind: To be the best, you must handle the worst. Back then, those words were a challenge. Now, they felt like a relentless burden.
By Nauman Hassan Khan6 months ago in Fiction
The Pursuit of Purpose
Evan sat at the corner table of the dimly lit coffee shop, his eyes flicking toward the door every few minutes. Two weeks ago, he had met Lila at a friend’s party—her smile, her laugh, the brief touch on his arm—moments he had replayed endlessly. He had texted her relentlessly since then, crafting witty messages and overanalyzing her brief replies. Tonight, she had finally agreed to meet for coffee, and his heart pounded with anticipation. Adjusting his shirt and checking his hair in his phone’s reflection, he rehearsed the perfect lines to charm her.
By Nauman Hassan Khan6 months ago in Fiction
❤rian’s Night: When the Dark Almost Won❤
It was late at night. The wind whispered through the cracked window of a small room, lit only by a dying bulb. Arian sat on the edge of his bed, his hands gripping his face, his shoulders trembling — not from cold, but from the weight of everything he had tried to carry for too long.
By Abdulmusawer7 months ago in Fiction
The Roar and the Whisper
The Roar That Ruled "eep in the heart of the forest where sunlight cracked through tangled canopies and shadows held secrets, ruled the mighty lion, Ragnar. His mane was like flame, his roar like thunder, and no creature dared question his rule. He hunted when he pleased, roamed where he chose, and took what he wanted.
By Arshad khan7 months ago in Fiction
