Script

Love: The Silent Symphony of the Soul. AI-Generated.
Love: The Silent Symphony of the Soul" Love is not a grand gesture. It isn’t the roses on Valentine’s Day, the fireworks, or the fairy-tale promises whispered under a full moon. Love is quieter than that. It’s the ache in your chest when you watch someone walk away, the warmth of a hand that fits perfectly in yours on a chaotic Monday morning, and the way your heart still races when they say your name after a thousand repetitions.
By The Last Love12 months ago in Fiction
3 black Xs where my locker number was.. Top Story - February 2025. Content Warning.
(no dialogue, only stage directions) School bell. Hallways flood with students. We follow a girl with her head down, walking and weaving through the crowd almost effortlessly. As if a ghost. She is in uniform, pristine, like everyone else.
By Ruby Red12 months ago in Fiction
The Skylight Room
Once upon a time, in the heart of a bustling city, stood an old boarding house on a quiet, winding street. Among its many rooms, nestled at the very top, was the smallest yet most enchanting of them all—the Skylight Room. The room was tiny, barely large enough to fit a single bed, a wooden chair, and a small desk. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in charm. A single skylight, framed by weathered wooden beams, opened up to the heavens, offering a breathtaking view of the stars at night and the sun's golden embrace at dawn.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Fiction
Ineliminable Collapse
Elvira Ransom is a monster. Carved and sewn. A living, crafted marionette monster. Something deeply unknown. Deeply disturbed. Monsters are known. Monsters don’t sew. They’re turned inside out, flesh and bones replaced by teeth and claws. The stitching lines glow from such profundity, a mirrored stack of lines. Cobwebbed, often frangible. Ransom. Elvira. The monster fogging my identity, metamorphosing its own existence. And I am a slave to compliance. I’ve bled for it. I’ve known its retribution, and I have transposed everything that used to rest on that acacia branch. A different kind of growth resides inside me now. Inside Elvira Ransom. From Elvira Ransom. But why doesn’t it stretch upwards? Why don’t I stop it? Could I stop her? Could Frankenstein stop the destruction of his own marionette monster? He bled for that too. Are you scared of her? Do you think you should be?
By Essie12 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Knew Tomorrow
Ethan Clarke had always known what was going to happen. Not in a supernatural way, not with visions or voices. He simply woke up each morning with a clear knowledge of the day ahead—what conversations he’d have, what news would break, even the smallest details like which song would play on the radio.
By Hridoy Hasan12 months ago in Fiction
Whispers Beneath the Redwoods
Whispers Beneath the Redwoods The towering redwoods of Northern California stood like ancient sentinels, their branches weaving a canopy so dense that sunlight barely kissed the forest floor. For centuries, they had witnessed the passage of time—the rise and fall of civilizations, the whispers of lovers, the cries of the lost. But deep within the heart of the forest, where the air grew heavy with the scent of pine and earth, there was a secret. A secret that called to those who dared to listen.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Fiction
Bubbles. Content Warning.
The best way to survive an interrogation where they dunk your head in water to make you answer questions is to hold your breath and go limp. But not straight away, or they’ll know about the trick.
By Ruby Red12 months ago in Fiction
Independent
Independent In the bustling city of Lumina, where skyscrapers kissed the clouds and neon lights painted the streets in vibrant hues, there lived a young woman named Independent. Her name was not just a word; it was a declaration, a way of life. Independent was known for her fierce determination, her unyielding spirit, and her refusal to conform to the expectations society placed upon her.
By Himansu Kumar Routray12 months ago in Fiction
A Mysterious Game with deadly stakes.
The room was dimly lit, the only source of light flickering from a single chandelier hanging above a circular table. Five strangers sat around it, their eyes darting between each other, hearts pounding in their chests.
By Badhan Sen12 months ago in Fiction
The Echoes of a Broken Past
Every human’s life is a story, and when the pain of passing time begins to ache in the chest, tears spill over. At such moments, the heart wishes to lighten its burden by sharing this story with someone. My childhood was spent in orphanhood. My mother bore every hardship that a grieving widow could endure, but she couldn’t fill the void of a father. So, a sense of deprivation stayed with me always, and youth crept in quietly. After matriculation, I stayed home.
By TaleSpot12 months ago in Fiction
The Timeless Appeal of Pirate Stories: Why Pirates of the Caribbean Still Captivates Audiences. AI-Generated.
Privateers have consistently held an exceptional spot in the aggregate creative mind. From the high oceans to covered treasure, privateers as trying explorers, talented pilots, and insubordinate mavericks has long enraptured narrators. However, what is it about privateer stories that keep on drawing in crowds, even in a cutting edge world so distant from the brilliant time of robbery?
By Shaikh Md Niloy Ahmmed Reyad12 months ago in Fiction
Is Love Enough to Change His Mind?
Shanaya adjusted her glasses and took a deep breath before walking into Aryan Malhotra's empire, Malhotra Enterprises. On her first day as a financial analyst, she had already heard whispers about her CEO.
By A Little Butterfly12 months ago in Fiction