Stream of Consciousness
She Disappeared from Our School Overnight and No One Talks About It
You think stories like that are made up. I wish I could tell you mine. Her name was Lila Harper. We weren’t best friends or anything. But she sat right next to me in English class, third period, by the window. She always wore matching socks, doodled in the margins of her notebook, and hummed softly when the teacher wasn’t looking.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Fiction
The Backroom of the Velvet Circuit. 🕴️
🎭Meet...The Gentleman! A dapper cloaked figure, dressed in a pinstripe suit and a black mask, sits at a poker table in a dimly lit, smoke-filled backroom, surrounded by anthropomorphic robots. The table is littered with stacks of chips and half-empty glasses of whiskey. The scene is lit with dramatic lighting and a gritty, vintage aesthetic. The style is inspired by art, with intricate details and a touch of nouveau elegance...Cinematic, filmic, a masterpiece.
By Novel Allen6 months ago in Fiction
I Was Reborn in Flames but Never Left the Fire
Let Me Tell You a Story You’ll Never Forget I was born for the third time on a night of red skies and black screams. In my village, we do not fear death. We expect it. Welcome it, even. Because here, death is never the end. We are reborn through fire every hundred years. It's our curse. Or blessing. It depends on who you ask.
By Isabella Wood6 months ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Tide: A Story Told in Shells
At first glance, the image is simple—serene, even. A ceramic bowl, resting gently on the damp sand, cradles an exquisite collection of seashells. They sit nestled together like quiet thoughts, each one shaped by time and tide. Beyond this peaceful arrangement, the shoreline stretches toward a glowing horizon, golden with the touch of evening light. A lighthouse stands distant and steady, a silent witness to the sea’s ever-shifting moods.
By Fazal Malik6 months ago in Fiction
Underwater Cities Don’t Have Traffic Jams
I once read a silly-sounding line in a science magazine: “Underwater cities don’t have traffic jams.” It was part of a speculative piece about futuristic civilizations—utopias under the sea with clear domes, no air pollution, and no honking horns. At the time, I laughed. But strangely, that line stuck with me.
By Fazal Hadi6 months ago in Fiction
The Wandering Mind of Willow
In a quiet meadow surrounded by silver birch trees and soft rolling hills, there lived a rabbit named Willow. He was not like the other rabbits who spent their days hopping around collecting food or playing in the sun. Willow was different. He had a habit—some called it strange, others charming—of getting lost in his thoughts.
By Fazal Malik6 months ago in Fiction
Wings of Joy
In a meadow kissed by golden sunlight, nestled between whispering trees and a winding stream, lived a butterfly named Zara. She wasn't just any butterfly — her wings shimmered with the colors of sunrise and sunset, with flecks of silver and blue that sparkled when she flew. But it wasn’t just her beauty that made her special. Zara was known across the valley for something even more wonderful — she loved playing with flowers, all the time, every day.
By Fazal Malik6 months ago in Fiction
Wings of Kindness
Once upon a time, in a lush green forest nestled between tall mountains and flowing rivers, there lived a tiny ant named Aroo. Aroo was small even by ant standards, but his heart was full of curiosity and kindness. He spent his days collecting food, exploring tree roots, and greeting all the creatures he met along the way.
By Fazal Malik6 months ago in Fiction
The Royal Legacy of King Barkley
Once upon a time, in a faraway realm hidden beyond icy mountains and ancient forests, there reigned a noble king unlike any the world had seen. His name was King Barkley, a Golden Retriever of majestic stature and unmatched wisdom. With his gleaming golden coat, kind eyes, and a crown that shimmered in the sunlight, King Barkley ruled the Canine Kingdom of Arvendale, a land where dogs of all breeds lived in peace, honor, and unity.
By Fazal Malik6 months ago in Fiction
The Black Umbrella
It was raining that night. The last time I saw her. She looked kinda sad standing there in the rain waiting on the train. I should have said something. I should have told her how pretty she looked. Or thanked her for being so cool to me. I should have said anything, but instead I left without saying a word. I didn't even tell her goodbye.
By Jennidoll of (jennidoll.inc)6 months ago in Fiction
