satire
Relationship satire can be cathartic; when love hurts too much, just laugh.
The Boy Who Refused to Blink
I. The Child: Born Guilty The boy was born on a Tuesday—a day his village called Damnation’s Dawn. His mother bled silence, and the doctor wore no gloves. The hospital bed was cold; the window open in winter. They say he didn’t cry when he was born. They say he blinked once, then never again.
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Humans
The Four Faces of Ishaaq
I. The Child: Born in a House of Silence Ishaaq was born on a Monday—a day neither holy nor cursed—into a house made of mud, secrets, and silence. His mother’s scream was the only sound in the room when he arrived. Not a wail from Ishaaq, not a word from his father. A midwife muttered “He looks like a thinking boy”, as if that were a curse in a town that worshipped ignorance.
By Muhammad Abdullah7 months ago in Humans
Why People Return to Toxic Relationships
Toxic relationships are complex and heart-wrenching. Despite the undeniable pain, many individuals find themselves repeatedly drawn back into these harmful dynamics. Rather than a simple matter of weak will or poor decision-making, returning to a toxic partner is often a manifestation of deep-rooted psychological patterns, emotional dependencies, and a yearning for familiarity—even when familiar means suffering.
By Edge Alexander7 months ago in Humans
The Hearts Whisper and Shadows Linger. Content Warning.
On a rain-soaked evening in a city that had seen too many heartbreaks and fleeting romances, Lena found herself wandering under the warm glow of streetlights. Each droplet that slipped down the cobblestone resembled tiny memories of a past too painful to bury. Lena had once believed love was the answer to every ache, a promise of tomorrow’s magic. Yet now, haunted by the echo of promises broken, she wondered if trust in love was nothing more than a fairy tale spun to soothe aching hearts.
By Edge Alexander8 months ago in Humans
A Cycle of Suffering in Gaza
The Fragile Ceasefire The guns fell silent on November 24, 2023, marking Gaza's first dawn in seven weeks without the mechanical whine of drones. As the pale winter sun rose over shattered neighborhoods, people emerged like ghosts from the rubble. Um Youssef, a 58-year-old grandmother, knelt in what remained of her kitchen, sifting through broken dishes with trembling hands. "This was where I made maqluba every Friday," she told a neighbor, her voice cracking as she held up a single surviving coffee cup.
By Muhammad Israr8 months ago in Humans
