Abdul Qayyum
Bio
I am retired professor of English Language. I am fond of writing articles and short stories . I also wrote books on amazon kdp. My first Language is Urdu and I tried my best to teach my students english language ,
Stories (76/0)
Echoes of a Smashed Adore
Echoes of a Smashed Adore Maya sat by the window of her interesting coastal cabin, the sound of waves slamming against the shore a consistent update of her turbulent feelings. It had been five a long time since Leo vanished without a follow, taking off her with nothing but recollections and unanswered questions. Nowadays, be that as it may, it is diverse. In her hands, she held a letter stamped from the day he vanished, its paper matured and yellowed, but the ink still dynamic with his commonplace penmanship.
By Abdul Qayyuma day ago in Fiction
The Unending Chase
The Unending Chase The sound of my possess breath is all I can listen to, each pant for discussion more honed and more frantic than the final. I do not know when the bad dream began, but it feels like I've been running until the end of time. Each night, without falling flat, I discover myself in this unending chase, sought after by a substance I can never see but continuously feel. It's like a dull nearness that sneaks fair past the edge of my vision, a shadow that animates my pulse and fixes my chest with fear.
By Abdul Qayyum2 days ago in Fiction
The Chronicles of Andrew Detmer
The Chronicles of Andrew Detmer Seattle young person Andrew Detmer lived within the shadow of ceaseless anguish. Bullied at school and mishandled by his alcoholic father Richard, Andrew's life was an embroidered artwork of torment and hardship. His mother Karen's fight with cancer encouraged his delicate presence. His comfort came from his cousin, Matt Garetty, a guide of bolster in the midst of the chaos.
By Abdul Qayyum2 days ago in Fiction
Deadpool & Wolverine
Deadpool & Wolverine Within the calm edges of Madripoor, where the neon lights of the bustling city flashed like anxious spirits, a figure clad in ruddy and dark stood on a disintegrating building. The soldier of fortune known as Deadpool studied the scene with a bored moan. His twin katanas were strapped to his back, and his trusty guns were holstered at his sides. The night was youthful, and he was tingling for a few activities.
By Abdul Qayyum3 days ago in Fiction
The Whispering Mirror
The Whispering Mirror The Mirror stood within the corner of the faintly lit shop, hung in a dusty, blood red velvet cloth that implied an age of overlooked splendor. Jonathan Whitaker, a collector of collectibles and relics, found himself mysteriously drawn to it. The businessperson, a thin man with empty eyes, took note of his intrigued ness and rearranged it.
By Abdul Qayyum4 days ago in Fiction
The Garden's Unused Gatekeeper
The Garden's Unused Gatekeeper In a quiet plant showered in daylight, the amazing mongoose Rikki-Tikki-Tavi luxuriated within the warmth, his hide dotted with dim. Time had mollified his once furious eyes, but the fire of security still burned inside. He looked at the youthful mongoose playing close to the rose bushes, his developments fast and inquisitive. Rikki knew it was time to pass on his mantle.
By Abdul Qayyum5 days ago in Fiction
The Tune of Quiet
The Tune of Quiet Mrs. Robinson sat by the window, her fingers following the sensitive designs of bind on the shade. It had been a long time since she had listened from her spouse, John, who had been conveyed amid the early days of the war. Each day extended into the following, checked by the nonappearance of letters and the onerous hush of the piano within the corner of the room.
By Abdul Qayyum5 days ago in Fiction
Aiko and the Sakura Soul
Aiko and the Sakura Soul Within the quiet town of Yamazakura, settled close to an antiquated forest of cherry blossom trees, the entry of spring was continuously met with incredible expectation. The woods, with its sensitive pink petals, was the pride of the town and a source of gigantic bliss. Each spring, the villagers accumulated blossoms underneath the blooms to celebrate Hanami, the celebration of blooms. But this year, something was awfully off-base. The cherry trees were wilting, their blooms falling rashly, clearing out the town covered in lost hope.
By Abdul Qayyum6 days ago in Fiction
Young lady is Pregnant
Young lady is Pregnant A quiet fell over the little town of Maplewood as summer started to blur into harvest time. Clears out were turning shades of gold and blood red, the discussion carried a freshness that signaled the altar of seasons, and life went on in its calm, unsurprising way. For everybody but Emma.
By Abdul Qayyum7 days ago in Fiction
The Relentless Soul
The Relentless Soul The Bequest of Soraya Manutchehri Freidoune Sahebjam, a French-Iranian writer, found himself stranded in Iran when his car broke down. After a little transport towed him to the town of Kuhpayeh, he cleared out his car with a hesitant workman, Hashem, who inevitably concurred to settle it for additional dollars. Zahra, a neighborhood lady, took note Freidoune's tape recorder and attempted to caution him about the village's dull privileged insights. In any case, the town's mullah, Sheik Hassan, and the chairman, Ebrahim, hindered her, expelling her as insane.
By Abdul Qayyum8 days ago in Fiction
My Travel to Veritasium
My Travel to Veritasium From Material science to Film-making: When I was a kid, around 10 or 11 a long time ago, I went to a Genghis Khan display at a historical center. I didn't know much about him but that he was a celebrated warrior from a long time back. I anticipated seeing his preserved body, suit of armor, or sword. But when I went to the exhibition hall, all they had were modest parts of earthenware and a few ancient shoes. I was fantastically disillusioned.
By Abdul Qayyum9 days ago in Fiction