family
The Lantern Keeper
The Lantern Keeper A Tale of Light in the Dark Image Prompt: A lone figure standing on a cliff at twilight, holding a glowing lantern that casts a warm light over a winding path descending into a misty valley, with stars beginning to emerge in the deep purple sky.
By Shohel Ranaabout a year ago in Fiction
He kept the light on . Content Warning.
He passed his finger along a jagged edge of paper, but a door flung open, a pervasive memory of the past instead of a paper cut. The scene played as if it were nurturing. There was no movement. He knew the path the way he knew his mother. He thought his past would play a different song, but it was a race car reversing backwards. The person that changed everything came too close and it might cause a dangerous end to the present.
By Caitlin Charltonabout a year ago in Fiction
A Stranger in Every Photograph
A Stranger in Every Photograph I found the photo album on a rainy Sunday afternoon, tucked behind boxes in the attic of my late grandmother’s house. Its leather cover was cracked and worn, the pages yellowed, and the smell of old paper and faint perfume clung to it like a ghost.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Day the Colors Fled
The Day the Colors Fled It started quietly, as if the city had taken a deep breath and let all color escape. I woke to gray skies and streets stripped of vibrancy. My walls, my clothes, the garden outside—everything was a shade of ash, steel, and stone. Even the sunlight seemed pallid, like paper left too long in the sun. I rubbed my eyes, convinced it was a trick of sleep. But the world outside my window confirmed my fear.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Café That Served Emotions
The Café That Served Emotions The café wasn’t on any map. Not in guidebooks, not on GPS, not even on the neon-lit streets of downtown. You stumbled upon it when you weren’t looking, through a narrow alley framed by ivy and flickering lanterns. The sign read simply: “Café Émotion”, its letters curling like smoke.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Letters to the Future Me
Letters to the Future Me It started on a Tuesday. I was pouring cereal at my tiny kitchen table when I noticed the envelope lying beside my bowl. Brown paper, neatly folded, with my name written in cursive I didn’t recognize. I opened it with cautious curiosity.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The backyard
Matcha Lattes on Sundays, that was the current ritual. And, as we got older and the opportunities for late nights at the club turned into evenings with face masks, giggling about past nights at the club, which then became, “we need another face mask night,” we clung to the matcha dates.
By Athena Pajerabout a year ago in Fiction
Returned to My Childhood Hometown After 20 Years And Found a Stranger’s Face in My Family Photo
Returned to My Childhood Hometown After 20 Years And Found a Stranger’s Face in My Family Photo By: Abdullah When I stepped off the bus, the air felt heavier than I remembered. Twenty years had passed since I last walked these streets of my childhood hometown, yet the smell of damp earth after a morning rain was the same. The cracked sidewalks, the rusting lampposts, the leaning wooden fences they all seemed to greet me like old friends who hadn’t changed, though I knew I had.
By Abdullah Khan about a year ago in Fiction
