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 (53/0)
The Story of a Woodland Gator Reptile
The Story of a Woodland Gator Reptile As I take a late spring, early morning walk at the edge of the woods not distant from the rivulet in southern Middletown, it feels like an extravagance to drink within the sounds of this environment. I note the reproving cackles of several blue jays within the oaks. They show up to be troubled at the location of a combine of crows as they close the jay's homes. To differentiate the cacophony over, the smooth sounds of the river welcome me to come closer. As I arrive at a clearing, a Timberland Gator Lizard is sitting as still as a stone within the daylight. This is often the moment I have seen this month! Needing to observe this slippery and long-bodied animal I step ever closer. Each step I take could be a supplication:
By Abdul Qayyumabout 18 hours ago in Fiction
The Timekeeper's Disciple
The Timekeeper's Disciple Within the bustling city of Chronopolis, where each tick and tick of the clock held a substantial esteem, time was more than a concept—it was a cash, a drive woven into the fabric of life. At the heart of this city stood the grand Tower of Time, domestic to the respected society of Timekeepers. These gatekeepers of worldly adjust guaranteed that time streamed easily, repairing disturbances and anticipating peculiarities that may unwind the world's sensitive chronology.
By Abdul Qayyum2 days ago in Fiction
No Trust
No Trust The wind cried like a banshee exterior the boarded-up cabin, each blast rattling the free windows like skeletal fingers. Interior, crouched by a biting dust fire, sat Amelia and Finn, their faces carved with the rough lines of lost hope. They had been caught within the phantom town of Empty River for weeks, ever since a thick, unnatural mist had rolled in, gulping the world in an invulnerable white cover.
By Abdul Qayyum4 days ago in Fiction
Cheerful Mother's Day
Cheerful Mother's Day Cheerful Mother's Day With Cherish And Back Toward A Brighter Future Rain lashed against the layered metal roof of the little shack, a tenacious drumming that reflected the cadence of Anika's heart. Interior, by the flashing candlelight, sat her mother, Amara. Slight and lined, Amara's eyes held a lifetime of hardship, however this evening, a flash of trust moved inside them. Anika, scarcely eighteen, clutched a worn letter in her hand, the official seal catching the candlelight. It was her acknowledgment letter to the prestigious National Organized of Innovation.
By Abdul Qayyum5 days ago in Families
A Defeatist
A Defeatist Elias lived a life never-endingly hung within the shadow of "what uncertainties." Each choice, each activity, was weighed down by the fear of being labeled a defeatist. He wasn't born that way. As a child, his eyes shone with the same brave flicker as the other boys, the ones who climbed the tallest trees and chased after rebel fireflies long past nightfall. But some place along the way, fear took root, a weed that choked the once dynamic plant of his strength.
By Abdul Qayyum6 days ago in Fiction
The monkey's paw
The monkey's paw Rain lashed against the windows of the White's house, a persistent drumming that reflected the biting stress in Mrs. White's heart. Her child, Herbert, their as it were child, had been harmed at the production line. The scanty reserve funds they'd amassed over a long time were gone, gulped by the mounting healing center bills. A overwhelming quiet hung within the smoke-filled room, broken as it were by the crackle of the passing on fire and Mr. White's fatigued moan.
By Abdul Qayyum7 days ago in Fiction
The Melody of Us
THe Melody of Us The vintage train rattled alongside the rusty tracks, its whistle a mournful cry echoing through the sizeable vacancy of the Argentinian plains. Inside, nestled in a worn leather-based seat, sat Elena, her weathered hands clutching a battered violin case. Beside her, a younger boy named Mateo, with eyes the color of twilight, tapped his foot rhythmically against the ground.
By Abdul Qayyum8 days ago in Fiction
The Starlight Weaver
The Starlight Weaver: A Tapestry of Dreams and Destiny I. Threads of Fate High above the whispering pines of Mount Lumina, where twilight bled into night, lived Anya, the Starlight Weaver. Her home wasn't a house of stone or wood, but a colossal loom draped across the celestial expanse. Its frame, an ethereal weave of moonlight, hummed with the symphony of stardust. A million shimmering threads, each imbued with the essence of a living soul, flowed across its surface.
By Abdul Qayyum9 days ago in Fiction
The Lottery of Second Chances
The Lottery of Second Chances The sterile white walls of the Allocation Center hummed with a low, constant thrum. Anya gripped the worn leather armrest, her knuckles white. Unlike the nervous flutter before the usual lottery, this time, a cold dread coiled in her gut. Today's lottery wasn't for houses or vacations; it was for a second chance.
By Abdul Qayyum10 days ago in Fiction