Excerpt
A Merchant and His Donkey: A Lesson in Cleverness and Consequences. AI-Generated.
A Merchant and His Donkey — A Tale of Clever Tricks and a Wiser Lesson Long ago, in a peaceful village nestled between rolling hills and flowing rivers, lived a humble merchant who made his living by selling salt. Every morning, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, the merchant would load up his loyal donkey with heavy bags of salt and set off toward the distant market to earn his daily bread.
By Ihsanullahabout a year ago in Fiction
Eyes in the Night: A Wolf’s Tale from the Forest
The forest was alive, but silent. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, casting silver shadows across the undergrowth. Owls hooted in the distance, and the wind whispered through the pines. But none of that mattered to the creature standing still at the edge of the clearing — a lone wolf with glowing yellow eyes, ears twitching at every sound.
By Muhammad Saeedabout a year ago in Fiction
“From Rivalry to Romance”
Ayan Khan had always been the pride of his college’s cricket team — confident, sharp, and a born leader. His name echoed in corridors not just for his sportsmanship, but also for his razor-sharp wit and charm. Professors liked him, juniors admired him, and most of the campus secretly wished to be in his circle. But everything changed when Meher Saeed joined the university. She was different. Fierce. Brilliant. And unapologetically bold. Unlike others, she didn’t seem to care about Ayan’s so-called reputation. If anything, she seemed to enjoy knocking him off his pedestal. From the very first debate competition — where she publicly dismantled his argument with poise and a smirk — to the interdepartmental cricket match, where she stunned everyone by hitting the final six against his team, Meher made her presence impossible to ignore. It was war from day one. Their friends joked it was “the cold war of campus.” Whenever Ayan passed Meher in the hallway, it was with a half-scoff, half-smirk. Sometimes, he’d drop a sarcastic one-liner. Meher, never one to back down, would return fire — her words precise, her smile smug. But fate, as always, had its own wicked sense of humor. In their final semester, the university announced a mega cultural festival. A drama skit, dance performance, and storytelling competition — all rolled into one. Each department had to nominate a boy and a girl as lead performers. Ayan was obvious. The faculty trusted him. The students idolized him. But when Meher’s name was called alongside his — gasps filled the room. Ayan's jaw tightened. “I’d rather fail than work with her,” he muttered under his breath. “You can fail,” Meher replied, not even looking at him, “but I don’t lose.” Their first week of rehearsals was chaos. Every creative decision turned into a full-blown debate. Ayan accused Meher of being bossy. Meher called Ayan a control freak. The script was rewritten twice. One time, Ayan walked out. Another time, Meher refused to show up. But amidst all that friction… something strange started to happen. One evening, they stayed late to rehearse a particularly emotional scene. The campus was quiet. Most students had left. Under the glow of soft yellow lights, Meher stumbled over a line and let out a sudden laugh — not mocking, but genuine. It echoed softly through the empty hall. Ayan looked up, stunned. It was the first time he’d seen her not in battle mode. “You look… different when you laugh,” he said, almost to himself. Meher looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “And you don’t look half bad when you’re not trying to win.” Their eyes met. And for the first time, there was no sarcasm. No smirk. Just silence. Charged and confusing. After that, rehearsals shifted. There were still arguments — but now they ended in laughter. They shared meals, stayed late working on scenes, even opened up about their lives. Ayan learned Meher had moved around a lot as a kid — always the new girl. Meher learned that Ayan’s confidence was partly a mask for the pressure he felt to always be perfect. One night, rain poured as they sat on the auditorium steps, script papers soaked and forgotten. Ayan shrugged off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She looked at him — no words, just a long glance. “Why did you hate me so much?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t,” she replied, her voice soft. “I just thought you were too full of yourself. But now... I think you were just afraid to be seen.” Ayan leaned in slightly. “And maybe I never hated you either. Maybe I was just waiting for someone who could challenge me.” The night hung between them like a secret. The day of the competition arrived. Their performance was electric. The storyline — two enemies forced to work together, eventually falling for each other — felt eerily personal. The audience cheered, but Ayan and Meher only had eyes for one another as the curtain fell. Later that evening, under the old oak tree near the main ground, Ayan found her standing alone. He walked up, nervous for the first time in years. “I think I’ve been falling for you,” he whispered, “since the day you hit that cricket shot.” Meher turned, smiling. “Took you long enough.” She reached for his hand — not for a script, not for show — but for real. And in that moment, enemies became something much more.
By Aman Ullahabout a year ago in Fiction
The House That Waited
The House That Waited It had been thirty years since Evelyn had last stepped foot on the porch of the house on Windmere Lane. The gravel crunched beneath her boots the same way it had when she was nine years old, clutching her father’s hand as they left in the dead of night. She’d always believed the memory was distorted by fear and sleep, but now, as her fingers brushed the flaking paint of the porch railing, she realized—some memories didn’t fade. They only waited.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Nvidia is Now Worth More Than… Well, Basically Everyone Else
In the world of finance and technology, there are rare moments that make jaws drop. Apple hitting a $1 trillion valuation in 2018 was one. Microsoft overtaking Apple in 2021 was another. But nothing — and I mean nothing — quite compares to what Nvidia has pulled off in 2025.
By lony banzaabout a year ago in Fiction
Atlas
Gravity pulls harder now, even this close to the top of the world. People carrying their weight in goods and luggage pass Tashi like they’re carrying nothing at all. He breaks down and stops wherever the trail widens, stares down the crumbling flanks of the mountain until the perspective makes him sick. Easy. It would be so easy. But Tashi stays put—if he steps over, that’s it. No going back. Dad will never know what happened, Nima might never know where he went, and Tashi will never know whether she missed him at all.
By Rosie Ford about a year ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Tide: A Story Told in Shells
At first glance, the image is simple—serene, even. A ceramic bowl, resting gently on the damp sand, cradles an exquisite collection of seashells. They sit nestled together like quiet thoughts, each one shaped by time and tide. Beyond this peaceful arrangement, the shoreline stretches toward a glowing horizon, golden with the touch of evening light. A lighthouse stands distant and steady, a silent witness to the sea’s ever-shifting moods.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
The Wandering Mind of Willow
In a quiet meadow surrounded by silver birch trees and soft rolling hills, there lived a rabbit named Willow. He was not like the other rabbits who spent their days hopping around collecting food or playing in the sun. Willow was different. He had a habit—some called it strange, others charming—of getting lost in his thoughts.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
Wings of Joy
In a meadow kissed by golden sunlight, nestled between whispering trees and a winding stream, lived a butterfly named Zara. She wasn't just any butterfly — her wings shimmered with the colors of sunrise and sunset, with flecks of silver and blue that sparkled when she flew. But it wasn’t just her beauty that made her special. Zara was known across the valley for something even more wonderful — she loved playing with flowers, all the time, every day.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
Wings of Kindness
Once upon a time, in a lush green forest nestled between tall mountains and flowing rivers, there lived a tiny ant named Aroo. Aroo was small even by ant standards, but his heart was full of curiosity and kindness. He spent his days collecting food, exploring tree roots, and greeting all the creatures he met along the way.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
