Classical

A story of betrayal and revenge
The boy loved the girl very much. The parents did not want to accept the relationship at all. But the boy was very committed to the relationship.
By Arfan Raihen2 years ago in Fiction
Love U, Fiona
LOVE U Fiona.. Our protagonist is Fiona. Fiona Ray. Fiona is an adopted girl. Her real mother is a Russian woman. Her mother came to Singapore in the mid-nineteen-eighties as a prostitute. She was sold to young men from high-class families in Singapore and earned hundreds of thousands of dollars.
By Rohitha Lanka2 years ago in Fiction
The Garden Blooms
The Garden Blooms by Kabir Ahmed Chowdury Flowers have bloomed in the garden. That’s only natural—flowers 'will' bloom in a garden, so what’s there to fuss about? They’ll bloom, spread their fragrance, attract bees, and draw butterflies! Oh, wait—why would bees come? Is there a honeycomb tucked away in the garden for bees to swarm to? Maybe not, but what’s the harm in imagining it? A passing traveler might suddenly pause, struck by the sight.
By Chowdhury Kabir2 years ago in Fiction
Do you want to come to my chest?"
Do you want to come to my chest?" " Mmm." " This chest is yours now, my girl. You don't have to ask permission, you don't have to wait for me to speak.. You can curl up in this chest anytime, anywhere.."
By Rohitha Lanka2 years ago in Fiction
The Silent Echoes
The small town of Eldridge had always been quiet, nestled at the foot of mist-covered hills. People there lived simple, peaceful lives—until the day the voice returned.
By Ishaq Ahmadzai 2 years ago in Fiction
The Hut
A new day appears. Birds whistle and sing their melodies, the wind is northeast, and its breeze refreshes the sun that rises fiercely hot this time of the year. Currently, it is December and for me, this month represents one of the most beautiful months as it is the beginning of school vacation. It is a well-deserved break after a long year dedicated to studies in a college course of Mathematics; The moment you can forget all the integrals, derivatives and polar coordinates. Now I need to worry about all the challenges that life will throw at me. My dreams depend on it. My back hurts as a result of a bad night of sleep lying on the beaten earth that I prepared as a bed. The hut that I built with incredible effort and the fire that I lit gave me a certain amount of security at night. However, I did hear howling and footsteps outside it. Where have my dreams led me? The answer is to the end of the world, where civilization has not yet arrived. What would you do, reader? Would you also risk a trip to make your deepest dreams come true? Let's continue the narrative.
By Aldivan Teixeira Torres2 years ago in Fiction
The Sacred Mountain
The Sacred Mountain A long time ago, I heard of an extremely inhospitable mountain around Pesqueira. It is part of the mountain range of Ororubá (indigenous name) where the indigenous Xukuru people dwell. They say that it became sacred after the death of a mysterious medicine man from one of the Xukuru tribes. It can make any wish a reality, as long as the intention is pure and sincere. This is the starting point of my journey, whose objective is to make the impossible possible. Do you believe, readers? Then remain with me, paying special attention to the narrative.
By Aldivan Teixeira Torres2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Silentium
The twin suns of Xylos cast long, distorted shadows across the dunes as the desert stretched out before Elara like an ocean of rust. The grav-drive of her modified sandcrawler, which she affectionately referred to as "Dusty," rumbled beneath her in a monotonous song. In this abandoned part of the galaxy, Elara was a scavenger and relic hunter, her face hidden by a rebreather and goggles. She tried to find the Silentium. The Silentium was a phenomenon rather than a location. A vast and terrifying area of space where there was no sound at all. There was no sound of an engine humming, a laser firing, or a voice. In the midst of the cosmic symphony, there was a bleak evidence of an unknown power—a void. Elara knew better than to believe it was a myth told by sailors to scare young space travelers. Her famous astrophysicist father had devoted his life to studying the Silentium because he was driven by a single, haunting question: What caused it? Ten years earlier, he had vanished into that void. Elara came to find out what had occurred. Elara followed a faint energy signature that her father's research had suggested, and as she moved through the barren landscape, days turned into weeks. Dusty's scanners pinged erratically, the silence of the desert amplifying the rhythmic thump of her own heart. The twin suns were relentlessly beating down on her, so she rationed her water and nutrient paste. Elara gasped as Dusty ascended a dunes one evening in the violet twilight. A valley that wasn't filled with sand but with metal lay in front of her. The landscape was littered with twisted, shattered structures of an unimaginable scale that glowed faintly in the waning light. This wasn't natural. The technology in this graveyard was so advanced that it was beyond comprehension. Elara whispered, her voice a dry rasp in the rebreather, "This is it." "He was in this location." Dusty was carefully led into the valley by her. The total absence of conversation was profound. Her ears hurt as it pressed against her like a physical force. She switched to visual communication on her helmet display, the text appearing in front of her eyes.
By Tafsirul Talukdar luvdo2 years ago in Fiction
SpaceX Launch Creates Mesmerizing 'Nebula' in Sky: April 21, 2025, Space Picture of the Day
In a dazzling demonstration of technology meeting natural beauty, a recent SpaceX rocket launch painted an awe-inspiring image in the early morning skies, resembling the brilliant, swirling colors of a deep-space nebula. This captivating spectacle occurred during the company’s 32nd commercial resupply mission (CRS-32) to the International Space Station (ISS), solidifying SpaceX’s place not only as a trailblazer in aerospace technology but also as an unintentional artist of the cosmos.
By Sakibul Islam Sakib2 years ago in Fiction
Shadow's Of The Heart
Velora, a city shrouded in silence but illuminated by neon, experienced heavy rain. Zayan, a former elite agent, now runs a bookstore in peace, far removed from the life of murder and betrayal he left behind. A beautiful, wet, breathless woman walked into his store one evening. Aria was her name. She said, "I need your assistance." "They're looking for me." Zayan was against getting involved. However, he was drawn in by something in her eyes—pain, fire, or desperateness. He provided her with shelter. They moved in the shadows in the days that followed, changing places, avoiding cameras, and surviving. Their bond grew over time. They shared warmth in silence as they conversed under flickering streetlights, and in those fleeting moments, genuine love crept in. However, Aria had something to hide. Zayan could feel it. Her skepticism and trepidation in response to certain inquiries. He did not press. Perhaps because he did not desire the truth. Or perhaps he was simply sick of running from what he wanted. The night of betrayal followed. Their hideout was stormed by an elite strike team. Zayan fought ferociously and wound up in the soldier he had previously buried. Aria disappeared amid the disorder. He found her hours later behind reinforced glass in a classified government facility. She said in a low voice, "I didn't lie about anything." They entrusted me with bringing you out of hiding. However, I did not anticipate caring. Zayan remained stationary. The organization thought he had information that could break apart a powerful web, buried deep from a previous mission. The skilled and brilliant Aria was ordered to get close. to ensure his safety. Loved. She whispered, "I was supposed to betray you." "But I wasn't expecting... this," The lights stop working. Screams reverberated. The explosions continued. She had always been a mystery to Zayan. He infected the system with a virus. a safety net. He vanished into the night once more amid the facility's chaos. Weeks went by. They claimed that the explosion killed Aria. But there was no body found. A woman arrived in a remote northern village months later, wounded and with shattered memories. Elina was given to her by the locals. She had no recollection. But she dreamed of rain, books, and a man she couldn't name every night. She saw him one morning as she was walking through the market: a man in a weathered coat standing far away. They locked eyes. Her pulse sped up. He vanished before she could react, though. merely a shadow. Or perhaps, love decides to guard from afar.
By Riazul Islam2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Message
Chapter 4 Daniel The photo was taken at sunset. Lina leaned against a guy with messy dark hair, his arm casually resting on her shoulders. They were both laughing, squinting in the warm glow, with the ocean blurred in the background. Mira had spent hours studying the picture, tracing its edges and searching for clues in the curve of Lina's smile and how her fingers clutched the man's sleeve. Daniel. That name was written on the back of the photo in Lina's graceful handwriting. Now, standing outside his cabin, Mira wondered if coming here was a mistake. The Cabin in the Pines The place was simple, tucked away among a group of black pines on the edge of town. Smoke curled from the chimney, and the scent of turpentine and oil paint filled the air. Mira knocked. No answer. She knocked again, this time harder. A loud crash came from inside, followed by footsteps. The door opened, revealing the man from the photo, paint splattered on his forearms, his dark hair longer and tied back in a messy bun. He was taller than she expected, his broad shoulders filling out a faded flannel shirt. His storm-gray eyes locked onto hers. For a brief moment, they both stood in silence.
By MD Bayzid2 years ago in Fiction
Horror Fiction
After the annual exams of class nine, Rinaldo came to visit his uncle's house in a garden in Mo u Levi I bazar. His uncle works in that garden and lives in a beautiful bungalow inside the garden. He came from Dhaka last night and got into this trouble today when he went out to the garden. His aunt had forbidden him to go out alone, but he said that he would not have any problem and would come back after taking a closer look. But he himself does not understand how he got so deep in his wanderings.
By Arfan Raihen2 years ago in Fiction