Stream of Consciousness
The Girl Behind the Door
1. The Whispering House In the overlooked town of Elmbrook—where the wind murmured like a overlooked bedtime song and the crows roosted like prophets—stood an ancient, exhausted house. It had no title, but everybody called it The Wilt House. Children strolled quicker close it; older folks whispered supplications; and those who had once challenged to trespass carried their hush like a mystery curse.
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Sold Regrets
The Man Who Sold Regrets by (Mukhlis safi) In a cramped corner of the old bazaar, nestled between a spice seller and a cobbler who never smiled, was a stall so plain most walked past without noticing it. Its banner, dusty and frayed, read only:
By NASRULLAH MUKHLIS7 months ago in Fiction
How to Open Up to a Big Sister
1. Understanding the Distance: Acknowledge the Pain Without Judgement Growing up without the presence or support of a big sister can leave emotional gaps that are difficult to articulate. Older siblings often carry symbolic weight—they are protectors, guides, and sometimes even role models. When that expectation is unmet, it leads to confusion, resentment, or a silent longing for connection. Before you can open up to her, it's important to first explore your own feelings about the past. Were you hurt because she didn’t come to your school events? Did you feel alone during family crises because she seemed emotionally or physically absent? Understanding the specifics of your experience, rather than burying the emotion, is a vital step toward meaningful communication.
By Dipayan Biswas7 months ago in Fiction
The Me I Left Behind
She didn’t have a name, but I knew exactly who she was. She was not a ghost. She was not a dream. She was just a version of me that used to take up all the space in my head. The voice that questioned everything. The feeling that kept me walking on eggshells in rooms where no one was even looking. I thought I’d left her behind a long time ago—buried somewhere under progress, therapy, and hard-won self-respect.
By Annie Edwards 7 months ago in Fiction
The House at the End of Memory
I was eleven the first time I saw the house. It perched at the end of a road swallowed by trees, a path my grandmother told me never to follow. “Where the branches hush the world,” she’d whisper, “some silences carry echoes louder than screams.”
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Fiction
The View from Up Here
Looking out over the horizon, I yet again wonder what I'm doing here. I don't mean here on Earth in that metaphysical, dark way. I just mean here, at this cliff, watching this beautiful sunset. The colors are blossoming in vibrant hues of purples, pinks, oranges, and yellows. I could almost convince myself it was a painting in a museum. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I don't know how I was lucky enough to stop and see it unfold before me.
By Kristen Barenthaler7 months ago in Fiction
My Grandmother’s Mirror Only Reflects the Dead
The Mirror’s First Secret I almost sold the mirror the day after Grandma Lillian’s funeral. It was an ugly thing—a heavy oak frame carved with twisting vines, the glass smoky with age. But Mom insisted: "She wanted you to have it. Said it was special."
By MUHAMMAD Abbas7 months ago in Fiction
