Script
Static in the Signal
It started with a flicker. A blinking cursor. A screen that wouldn’t load. Jamie slammed his laptop shut like it had betrayed him — again. Third time this week. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face, feeling the texture of another sleepless night creeping into his skin.
By Ahmed Rayhan8 months ago in Fiction
Lemonade Skies
The first thing Ava noticed when she stepped off the bus was the smell of lemons. Not strong, not artificial — just faint enough to feel real. The kind of scent that danced through the summer breeze and reminded her of freedom, even if she hadn’t felt it in a long time.
By Esther Sun8 months ago in Fiction
The Drawing of My Life
When I was a child, I believed that pencils held magic. Not the kind of magic that turned frogs into princes or moved mountains—but the quiet kind. The kind that turned thoughts into pictures, emotions into shapes, and silence into color. I didn’t speak much as a kid. While other children chased each other on the playground or shouted answers in class, I sat in the corner of my own world, sketching stick figures and stars on the backs of my notebooks.
By Esther Sun8 months ago in Fiction
The Bookstore Where Our Eyes First Spoke
The old bookstore on Elm Street was supposed to be torn down by spring. It smelled like dusty paper and warm cinnamon, with creaky wooden floors that whispered with every step. Leah had wandered in on a rainy Tuesday, hoping to kill time. She wasn’t expecting to find the last piece of her heart between the pages of a book—or in someone else’s eyes.
By The Waiting Tree8 months ago in Fiction
A Portrait of Silent Love
Deep within the heart of a dense forest, far from the reach of wandering eyes and sunlit paths, bloomed a wildflower. She wasn’t a flower of renown—no dazzling colors, no intoxicating fragrance. And yet, she was a symbol of silent beauty, a creation of nature that only solitude could nurture.
By Sadia Afrin8 months ago in Fiction
"The Long Way Around"
We sketch out our dreams in bold ink — a clear vision of what we want, where we’re headed, and how long it should take to get there. We imagine we’ll follow a clean path from point A to point B. Graduate by this age. Land a job by that one. Find love. Settle down. Climb the ladder. Check off each goal like a to-do list.
By Kaleem Ullah8 months ago in Fiction
Whispers Beneath the Mango Trees
The First Light of Mango Grove In the gentle warmth of dawn, the first light of the sun crept across the horizon, spilling gold over the lush, dew-drenched fields. The scent of mango blossoms floated on the morning breeze, soft and sweet, stirring the peaceful landscape awake. It was the time when even the birds hesitated to chirp, reverent of the stillness that hovered over the land like a sacred prayer.
By Mukhtiar Ahmad8 months ago in Fiction
A morning of misunderstanding
It was morning. A kind of orange sun came through the Thai glass of the balcony and made the room sparkle. Shan's room was already filled with orange bedsheets, curtains and carpets. As soon as he woke up, his mood was spoiled. He forgot to draw the curtains of the window last night—such a beautiful sleep was ruined
By Ishrat Jahan 8 months ago in Fiction
