family
The Boy Who Lived in the Mirror
Ever since I was a child, I noticed something strange about the mirror in my bedroom. It wasn’t just a reflection of me — it was something more. Sometimes, late at night, when the house was silent and the world outside faded away, the boy in the mirror seemed to move on his own.
By Abuzar khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Minute A Story of Dying . Content Warning.
The noise was the first to leave him. He could see the lips of his daughter, feel the tremble of her hand on his, but could no longer hear her. Not the soft whisper of her voice. Not the garbled sob in her throat. Not the quiet beep of the machines. As if life itself had lowered the level, as if the world was backing away quietly, waiting to release.
By Dr Haider ali shamsherabout a year ago in Fiction
🕰️ The Clockmaker’s Promise
The bell on the doorjamb gently clinked as Lena stepped into the clock shop. Dust in the golden light streaming through the stained glass window hung suspended, and the gentle tick-tick of dozens of clocks filled the air like a soft heartbeat.
By Midnight Pagesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Space Between Words. Runner-Up in You Were Never Really Here Challenge.
Dear Elena, I finished chapter twelve today. You were right about Mr. Darcy — he's insufferable, but I think that's the point. Do you suppose Austen had any idea how many people would fall in love with him anyway? And there’s something in the way he pauses when Elizabeth is turned away…
By Neli Ivanovaabout a year ago in Fiction
"Leave The Light On"
He's been waiting at his post for three hours. The sun has now set. Fully loaded bins line the street. Garbage day tomorrow. Loose papers from those who overfill their stack adorn the road. A busted fence. Laundry on the line in the front yard. Two dogs barking on the return. One by one, cigarettes lit and adorn the ashtray. Sitting. Waiting. A series of families out walking their dogs. A young couple, woman clearly pregnant, stop to take selfies. The sun sets. The street goes quiet. A third and final redbull. The key turns, an engine rattles. It's time to make a statement. It's time to get this pricks head out of the dirt.
By Scott Catheryabout a year ago in Fiction
The Second Shelf
The house smelled like time. Not dust, exactly, though it was everywhere. More like old paperbacks, lavender soap, and the faintest trace of cinnamon — the kind Dad used to sprinkle in Mom’s coffee when she wasn’t looking. I hadn’t stepped foot inside since the funeral, and even now, I hesitated in the doorway like a guest in my own childhood.
By MIne Story Nestabout a year ago in Fiction
The Boy Who Borrowed Time
The Worst Morning Ever Leo Winters was having the worst morning of his entire life. He missed the school bus. He spilled chocolate milk on his math homework. His big science project—the volcano—fell apart. And when he got to school (late), his best friend Olivia was mad at him because he forgot to save her a seat at lunch yesterday. “Can this day just end already?” he groaned, flopping down under the jungle gym at recess. But then he heard a voice say: “Would you like to borrow an hour?” Man The voice came from an old man sitting on a nearby bench. He wore a gray suit, shiny black shoes, and had a small silver pocket watch in one hand. Leo stared. “Borrow… what?” The man smiled like he’d been waiting for Leo. “Time, of course. You can borrow an hour from tomorrow. Use it to fix today. Or redo something. Or even skip a part you don’t like.” Leo blinked. “You mean, like… I get extra time today?” The man nodded. “One hour. But you must return it by sundown tomorrow. Time doesn’t like being short.” Leo laughed. “Is this a prank?” The man flipped the watch open and held it out. Tick. Tick. Tick. Leo took it. And everything changed. As soon as Leo took the watch, the world froze. Everyone stopped moving. Even the birds in the sky looked like stickers glued to the air. Leo could move freely. He ran back home, fixed his volcano project, rewrote his homework, and even put Olivia’s favorite cookie in her lunchbox as a surprise. When he clicked the watch again, the world resumed. And everything started going perfectly. He wasn’t late. His project got an A. Olivia smiled and said, “You’re the best!” And for the first time ever… Leo felt ahead of the day. Borrowed Time The next day, Leo found the watch still in his pocket. He couldn’t help it—he used it again. And again the next day. And the next. He borrowed hours to: Study for tests he forgot about Sneak in extra sleep Fix arguments before they started Even redo video game levels he messed up Every time, life got easier. And cooler. But one night, he forgot to return the hour. It was cloudy. The sunset was hidden. He figured, “I’ll just give it back tomorrow.” He shouldn’t have done that. The First Crack That morning, Leo woke up to find his reflection smiling at him… before he smiled. He rubbed his eyes. Weird. At school, Olivia said, “You already told me that,” even though he hadn’t. He tried to use the watch—but it was ticking backwards. Fast. And the next hour he borrowed? Felt shorter. Like it lasted only 40 minutes. The Time Collector That night, the old man appeared again—this time, in Leo’s bedroom. He wasn’t smiling. “You’re in time-debt, Leo,” he said. “You owe seven hours. Time is… not pleased.” “I’ll return them!” Leo said quickly. “Just tell me how.” “It’s not that simple anymore. You’ve used what wasn’t yours. Now the time you borrowed… will try to collect you.” “What does that mean?” But the man vanished. And Leo’s clock hands started spinning on their own. Skipped The next day, things got stranger. His breakfast vanished from the plate before he touched it. At school, he blinked—and suddenly it was math class, with no memory of lunch. Olivia said he ignored her at recess, but he wasn’t even there. Time was skipping him—taking back chunks of his life. He tried to stay awake that night, but it was no use. The watch ticked loudly. He closed his eyes for one second… …and woke up two days later. The Hourglass Room Desperate, Leo opened the watch’s back and found a tiny map etched inside. Following it led him to the town’s oldest clock tower. Inside, behind a dusty curtain, was a door. He stepped through—and found himself in a huge, glowing room filled with floating hourglasses. Some big. Some small. Some nearly empty. In the center was a massive one with his name etched in the glass. Sand poured from the top faster than it should. Suddenly, shadows in the shape of clocks crept forward. Time was alive. And it wanted him. The Deal Just as the shadows reached for him, the Watch Man appeared again. “You must give something back,” he said. “An hour is worth more than you know.” Leo thought hard. “Take my lunch breaks!” he begged. “Take my Saturdays!” “No,” said the man. “Not trades. Sacrifice. Choose a memory. Something you love.” Leo’s eyes filled with tears. “My birthday party,” he whispered. “The one when I turned 10. You can have it.” The Watch Man nodded. One hourglass vanished. The sand slowed. And the shadows backed away. Returned Leo woke up at home. Everything felt… normal. The watch was gone. He rushed to Olivia. “Do you remember my 10th birthday? The cake that looked like a dragon?” She blinked. “You never had a dragon cake.” His heart sank. It had worked. The hour was gone forever. But so was the memory. He had paid back time. Epilogue: The Lesson Leo never saw the Watch Man again. But sometimes, when a day feels too long, he remembers what it cost to make time stretch. Now, he just lives it. Even the bad days. Because time is a gift—not something to borrow. And he’s never late for sunset. Ever again.
By Lucien Hollow about a year ago in Fiction
