family
Pen and sword
In the afternoon, an argument was going on between Arif and Bithi. The subject of the argument was Asi and Masi, that is, the sword and the pen. Arif was saying that the sword is bigger. Bithi was saying that the pen is bigger. Arif was turning his hand in the position of holding a sword and saying, "I will cut off your head with one blow with the sword. Can you stop me with the pen?" The younger daughter Bithi cried at this behavior of her brother and said: If you insult me? You will. How can those who look down on the pen value a human being? I had overheard some of the argument between the two siblings. As soon as I entered the room, they caught me off guard. Both of them asked almost simultaneously: Is the pen greater or the sword greater, father? I did not give a verdict in either direction. I am just telling a story. I am presenting that story to you. The Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan was the emperor of Delhi at that time. The emperor had an office where soldiers were paid their wages. The man who paid the wages was called a munshi. That day, the munshi was very busy with his office work. At that time, a soldier arrived like a storm. For some reason, he was late in collecting his wages.
By Md Ariful Islamabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Ride of John. Content Warning.
I learned this morning that John had died in a car accident while returning home form work the previous day. I had not spoken to John much, but I remembered him because of his innocent appearance. This bad news shook my heart.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Letter
Suddenly, it started raining. Mr. Firoz liked the rain. Whether it came suddenly, silently, or with grand thunder and fanfare — he liked it all the same. He walked into the living room with a cup of tea in hand. He pulled the curtain over the window. Though the rain wasn’t too heavy, he found it quite pleasant.
By Abdul Wahababout a year ago in Fiction
The Quiet Ant
The Ant Who Carried Too Much There once lived a small ant in a thriving ant colony beneath the roots of an old tree, neither the fastest, the strongest, nor, by far, the cleverest of her kind. She did not construct the tallest towers or plow the deepest tunnels. She did not race or solve puzzles. Still, she had something lost that never, ever went away.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Wind
Since childhood, I’d watched the wind weave its way through the tall grass, tugging at dandelions, lifting leaves, and, once in a while, brushing against my cheek like a secret it meant only for me. It carried stories, I was sure of it—tales too old for language, too vast for paper.
By arafat chowdhuryabout a year ago in Fiction
“The Child Who Never Grew Old”
In the quiet village of Elmsworth, nestled between thick forests and sleepy hills, time moved slowly — but steadily. Children grew, trees shed their leaves, and wrinkles deepened with each passing year. Except for one child. His name was Eli. For as long as anyone could remember, Eli had lived in the village. He looked no older than seven — small, curious eyes, a mop of chestnut curls, and a wide smile that never seemed to fade. Some claimed he was the child of a reclusive traveler. Others whispered he’d been abandoned by faeries. But no one could deny the truth: Eli had never aged. Not a day. Mrs. Callahan, the oldest resident in Elmsworth, once showed her black-and-white photo from 50 years ago — and there, in the corner, stood Eli, holding a balloon, looking exactly the same. “It's a trick,” people said. “Maybe a grandson who looks just like him.” But when pressed, no family came forward. And Eli… well, Eli just kept playing with the other children. Every generation knew him. He played hopscotch in the ‘80s, video games in the 2000s, and VR by 2040. His playmates changed, grew up, moved on. He remained. It was the town’s unspoken rule not to question him. Until one day, a journalist named Clara came to Elmsworth. She was chasing a story about “the boy who defied time.” She came with cameras, notebooks, and a skeptic's heart. When Clara met Eli, he greeted her kindly. “Are you here to ask how old I am?” he said with a grin. She chuckled. “That obvious?” He nodded. “Everyone wants to know. Even me.” Clara spent weeks in the village. She spoke to elders, combed records, and followed Eli discreetly. He never left the village borders. He never got sick. He never changed. Then one evening, Clara found a strange journal buried behind the village library. It was wrapped in worn leather, sealed with a wax mark — a circle with an eye in its center. Inside, the entries began: “Year 1: I chose the village because it was quiet. I wanted peace. They think I’m a child. I let them. It’s easier this way.” “Year 64: The experiments worked. My body remains still. But my mind… it’s tired.” “Year 105: I’ve seen generations rise and fall. They live so quickly. I envy their endings.” Clara’s hands trembled. This wasn’t a child. The next entry read: “Year 172: If you’ve found this, then I am still here. Or worse… I am not.” She confronted Eli the next day. His smile was smaller now. Quieter. “I wrote that journal,” he said, looking up at her with eyes too wise for his face. “You’re not seven,” Clara whispered. “I was,” he nodded. “Once. A long time ago. I was a scientist… or a magician, depending on who you ask. I discovered something. A way to pause aging. I tested it on myself.” “Why?” “At first, curiosity. Then fear. And now…” He looked toward the horizon. “Regret.” Clara sat beside him on the bench. “Why stay here?” “Because this place remembers. And because maybe… I hope someone will figure out how to help me stop being what I’ve become.” “Have you ever tried ending it?” she asked gently. “I’ve tried everything,” he said. “But the body doesn’t break. Time doesn’t move for me. I’m… stuck.” The story went viral. Scientists, priests, journalists — they all came. But no one could explain Eli. Nothing changed him. Not medicine. Not rituals. Not even time. Eventually, the world moved on. But Clara didn’t. She stayed in Elmsworth. She aged. She married. She wrote books. She raised children — who all played with Eli. And one day, when Clara was old and frail, she whispered to him, “You gave me the greatest story. But I’m sorry you’re still writing yours.” Eli smiled. This time, with sadness. When Clara passed, Eli stood by her grave alone. A tear ran down his cheek — not of sorrow, but of longing.
By Tanveer Ahmadabout a year ago in Fiction
Wings of Kindness
On one fall day, a strong wind went through the woods, covering the sky with clouds, as trees were bending and flying in the gusts. The storm raged on, a crow soaring overhead, lost before it was caught on the branch of a gnarled old oak tree, shrieking as its body tumbled to the ground with one wing dragging uselessly behind.
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Fiction
Terrible vampire
Terrible vampire! Episode: 1 -------------------------- "" "" "" "" "" "" " "" "" "Nick" "" "" "" Acropy said in a loud voice "" "" !!! "" "" Father "" "" "" Nick said in a firm voice "" "" " "" "" Nick said on the other side "" "" " "" "" "Ho ho ho vampire your son will die ........" "" "" "" "" "" "" The house was laughing. Abrik "" " "" "" Mr. Nick eyes are small mr. Avrik said with full sight "" "" "" "" "You know very well in the sea we have the restriction of" "" "" "" "" "" "And the biggest thing is the answer to the vampire in the forest that does not return" "" "" " "" "And you will burst him there, Mr to bring flowers from the middle of the poisonous snake. Nick said in a routine "" "" "" "" "" "Mr. Avrik said" "" "" "" " "" "" Restrictions "" "" !!!! "" "" That is not just for you if you don't have to obey this day we would rule in the whole america "" "" " "" "" “Some people in the Father Sea have let us be on the side of the belief“ ”” ”” "" "We know that we can be terrible for them and you are asking them to finish. Nick shocked "" "" !!!! "" "" Mr. Avrik's nose said to the face of the nose and hearing this principle of your nose, "" "" "" "" Will not forget we are human so stop being bewheed like people "" "" "" "" I am surprised to see you and Eric "" "" "" " "" "Your son is like you haven't been like you have been like me" "" "" "" "" " "" "Father Eric has not yet been inside the human day if it would have been a hard -minded man. Nick said in the "" "" "" " "" ""Never be with those animals called people you will never see "" "" "" " "" "" "No Father It You didn't teach him that my son wouldn't have been so violent Mr. Nick said" "" "" " "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "Ever since he has been fighting the quarrel with Mrs. Bilkis Ara" "" "" " "" "" "" But Bilkis Ara also does not seem advantage in the words of Rafiq Sahib "" "" "" "" "" "" But this is how he will tell Bilkis Ara "" "" "!!! ."" "You want to leave my mother dead girl" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "But he can't say it because it is finished saying it many times this time Bilkis Ara will cry like a dead house" "" "" "" "" "But he will not take Jasmine with one leg and he will not give it to America's ground" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" Jasmine will go with us "" "" "" "" "" "" "" " ."" "" "" He cut off quietly "" "" "" "" "" ."" "" "" "" "Due to the father you can go to America with us today" "" "" " "" "" "" The "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" " "" "" Nick how much I am saying that Eric will not do you want your father back to his old power. Avrik said "" "" !!!! "" "" Mr. Nick does not understand what to say "" "" "" "" "" "But how he or how he burst into his son's poisonous snake whose bite cannot survive the strong vampire" "" "" "" "" "" Mr. Avrik noticed his son started to soften "" "" "" " "" "" "" "Erie is a vampire who goes to the north forest and can bring that flower for me through those poisonous snakes and it is not possible for anyone" "" ". "" "" If you can't see your son in distress, who can see the father then will not skip my power "" "" "" "" "Today I will be as I am later than 20 years ago" "" " "" "" My Eric me on the very good bus I know if I know that the only 5 flowers can bring back my lost energy that will run away. Don't tell him "" "" "" "" "" "" "He looked at the boy in the dark" "" " "" "" Mr. Nick's mouth is dry "" "" "" "" "" "" "MrAcropy wicked laug "" "" Mr. Nick left the room in the face of worried "" "" "" "" "Today Mr. Avrik is floating like a duck in the water" "" "" " "" "" "" "" Oh how peace it is looking for for 20 years, he has been waiting for this flower. He understands that his pursuit will be fulfilledAvrik became glad "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" " "" "" Jasmine went in front of his father's room "" "" " "" "" Parents were not called "" "" !!! "" "Yes ray mai income inside" "" "" "" "" "Jasmine slowly sat next to Rafiq Sahib in the room" "" "He got up and said that your clothes were packed with my mother" "" "" "" "" "Jasmine not feeling the head" "" "" "" "" "" Rafiq Sahib asked in surprise "" "" " "" "" Why Ray Mother I told you a long time ago "" "" "" "" "" " "" "" "Jasmine said in a trembling voice" "" "" " "" "" I was thinking you would leave me like "" "" "" "" "" "" Rafiq Sahib couldn't speak anymore "" "" " "" "" "Bilkis Ara does not say anything in front of his eyes, he can say anything like a girl in his eyes. "" "" Rafiq Sahib holds Jasmin's hand "" "" "" " "" "And I couldn't say anything else to your mother, and this time you get all the things you get" "" "" " "" "" "Jasmine Rafiq Sahib hugs" "" "" "" "" "" Crying in the voice of the beza said I didn't want anything to do with my father. You just need nothing to be next to me "" "" "" " "" "" "" "" "" "" "Jasmine Rafiq Sahib again and said that your choice is my choice" "" "" "" " ."" "" "" "" He went to the room to put the clothes on the Easy Chair and closed his eyes and started to remember the previous "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "Many years ago to cheat his first wife "" "" "Bilkis will one day know that mother" "" "" "" Because of which is to get married secretly to Bilkis "" "" "" "" "" "And as a result of its own life in its own life" "" "" "" "" "" "" "Could not bear that Rafiq Sahib's deceit" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" " "" Hollywood songs are listening to high volume from the wings room this night Rafiq Sahib got up and gave cotton to the ear "" "" "" " "" "And the girl is as reckless as a mother" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" His pappa tells him to go to their previous palace "" "" "" "" " "" "" "" "Tense pappa" "" "" "" " "" "" "To Night IM So Mach Bg" "" "" "" "" "" Ok Eric Butt will come down "" "" "" "" "" "That hm lying beside the beautiful vampire had a more deep" "" "" "" "his tonight bed mate Elina" "" " "" "I want to enjoy that beautifully like this today" "" ""
By MD.RASEL HOSSAN about a year ago in Fiction
“Buried Truth in a Birthday Cake”
The town of Willow ridge loved birthdays. Every week, balloons flew, music played, and cakes were sliced in celebration. But none were as eagerly anticipated as the 18th birthday of Sarah Elwood. She was the mayor’s daughter—beautiful, brilliant, and beloved. Her mother, Margaret Elwood, had spent weeks preparing a grand surprise party at their countryside estate. Friends, neighbors, and relatives gathered under string lights and bunting as the golden sun dipped below the horizon. The cake was the centerpiece—a towering four-tiered confection of chocolate and vanilla, adorned with intricate sugar flowers. It had been specially made by the town’s oldest bakery, “Sweet Whispers,” known for their secret ingredients and custom designs. As guests cheered and Sarah blew out her candles, Margaret stepped forward with a large silver knife. “One slice for luck,” she smiled, cutting into the bottom tier. The moment the slice was removed, the room fell silent. From inside the cake, something metal clinked onto the plate. It was a small, rusted key—old, oddly shaped, and stained with what looked like dried blood. The guests murmured. Sarah laughed awkwardly, thinking it was part of the bakery's surprise. But Margaret’s face turned pale. Her hands trembled. “That’s not supposed to be there,” she whispered, barely audible. Sarah looked at her. “Mom… is everything okay?” Margaret couldn’t answer. Her eyes were fixed on the key like it had crawled out of her nightmares. That night, after the guests had left, Sarah went to her mother’s room. Margaret sat in the dark, staring at a faded photograph in her lap—an old picture of a little girl, a woman, and a young man standing in front of the Elwood estate. “Who are they?” Sarah asked gently. Margaret hesitated. “You know I grew up in this house, right?” Sarah nodded. “What you don’t know… is that you had an uncle.” Sarah’s heart skipped. “Had?” “His name was Daniel. He was my twin. We were inseparable until the night of our 18th birthday. We fought that day, over something stupid. He ran into the woods behind the house. He never came back.” Sarah sat beside her, silent. “They searched for weeks. Police. Dogs. Helicopters. Nothing. Then winter came. And hope faded. But I always felt… like he never really left.” Sarah looked down at the key. “It was his,” Margaret said, voice barely a whisper. “It opened his old toy chest. The one I buried years ago… to try and forget.” Sarah stood. “We should find it.” The next morning, mother and daughter walked into the dense woods behind the estate. After hours of searching near the mossy stone wall where Daniel used to play, they found the place. Margaret knelt, hands shaking, and began to dig with a garden spade. After some time, the spade hit something solid. A wooden chest, rotting around the edges, emerged from the soil. Inside were faded drawings, a slingshot, a compass… and a stack of letters wrapped in a red ribbon. Sarah untied them. As she read the first letter aloud, Margaret gasped. It wasn’t from Daniel. It was to him. “Dear Daniel, I’m sorry for what I did. I never meant to push you. I was angry. I didn’t think you’d fall.” Sarah froze. Margaret’s breath caught in her throat. The next letter detailed it all. A fight between siblings. A shove. A scream. A body falling into the old well behind the wall—now long covered with ivy and forgotten. Margaret dropped to her knees. “I thought… I thought he just ran. I lied to everyone. I was scared. I never meant…” Sarah didn’t know what to feel. Her mother had buried the truth—not just in the woods, but in her soul. Later that day, Sarah returned alone to the old well. She cleared the ivy, revealing the moss-covered stones. The wooden cover creaked as she opened it. Looking down, all she saw was darkness… until something glinted. She called the authorities. Two days later, human remains were recovered. DNA confirmed what the letters had already confessed. Daniel Elwood had never left. The town was stunned. Margaret turned herself in. Given her age, mental state, and the accident’s nature, she received house arrest. The bakery was investigated, but the mystery remained. No one at “Sweet Whispers” had inserted the key. The baker insisted he had no idea how it got there. The cake was baked and delivered like any other. Some believed it was Daniel’s spirit, finding the only way to be heard after all these years. Months passed. Sarah now lives in her family’s estate, running a small library in honor of her uncle. She still celebrates birthdays—but with small cakes, no candles, and no surprises.
By Tanveer Ahmadabout a year ago in Fiction
