Series
Endurance
A cathedral hush ripples through Lincoln Park Church, the kind that makes even the pews feel nervous. Sunlight, filtered through stained glass, pools at odd angles across the flagstone, painting prisms onto the polished shoes of the guests as they wait, shifting from side to side, unsure if they are part of a celebration or a powder keg. The floral arrangements are excessive: creamy roses and white hydrangea crowd every surface, as if to pad the room against future blows.
By Endurance Stories5 months ago in Fiction
Endurance
The bridal suite at Lincoln Park Church is the size of a Manhattan apartment, with sunlight striping the parquet floor and everything—mirrors, crystal vases, even the pale blue couch—casting a soft, reflective glow. The air smells faintly of gardenias and last-minute nerves. Monica stands closest to Abby, all platinum hair and sharp, white teeth, her gold satin dress so tight it squeaks when she moves. She’s already on her second glass of prosecco, because “if you don’t start now, what’s the point?” Carla flanks the other side, shorter, slicker, her laugh echoing off the marble tile as she toggles between taking selfies and holding court about the champagne.
By Endurance Stories5 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Edge of Tomorrow
By Nadeem Shah The rain had a way of softening the city’s edges. Buildings that normally looked sharp and unforgiving now blurred into a watercolor of gray and silver. Streetlights bled into the puddles, their glow stretching out in ripples with every raindrop that fell.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter She Never Sent
By Nadeem Shah The envelope had yellowed with time, the edges curling slightly as if it had been holding its breath for years. It sat at the bottom of the box, beneath a stack of old photographs and forgotten receipts, as though it had been waiting—patient, quiet—for someone to finally notice it.
By Nadeem Shah 5 months ago in Fiction
Endurance
The night before his wedding, Michael paced the length of his apartment, his footsteps tracing a nervous path across the hardwood floors. The Chicago skyline glittered beyond his windows, but he barely noticed it, too consumed by the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest.
By Endurance Stories5 months ago in Fiction
A Stranger in Every Photograph
A Stranger in Every Photograph I found the photo album on a rainy Sunday afternoon, tucked behind boxes in the attic of my late grandmother’s house. Its leather cover was cracked and worn, the pages yellowed, and the smell of old paper and faint perfume clung to it like a ghost.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Fiction
