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The Time Traveler’s Coffee
Ethan Gray never intended to become a time traveler. He was just a tired writer looking for a quiet corner to work, drawn to a small, dimly lit café tucked between two towering buildings. The neon sign above the door flickered, caught in a perpetual stutter between “OPEN” and “CLOSED.” The scent of fresh coffee wrapped around him as he stepped inside.
By Cotheeka Srijon2 years ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter
The rugged cliffs of Cornwall stood tall against the relentless waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Perched on the edge of these cliffs was a lonely lighthouse, its beam cutting through the darkness, guiding ships safely to shore. It was the year 1892, and the lighthouse was tended by a reclusive man named Thomas Grayson and his daughter, Eliza. Eliza, now nineteen, had spent her entire life within the walls of the lighthouse, her world limited to the crashing waves, the cries of seagulls, and the endless horizon. But her life was about to change forever.
By Word Weaver2 years ago in Fiction
Ghosted Love
The house stood at the end of a gravel road, a relic of forgotten times, with ivy climbing its stone walls like nature's embrace. Sunlight struggled to pierce through the canopy of ancient oaks, casting dappled shadows across the overgrown garden. The place smelled of damp earth and time itself, a scent that clung to Elena’s clothes as she stepped onto the porch.
By MOHAMMED NAZIM HOSSAIN2 years ago in Fiction
“The Memory Tree”
In the heart of a small village was an old tree, known as a tree of memory. Its branches stretched and its roots passed deeply, holding the murmur of past generations. Village residents believed that if someone put their hands on the bark and share his memory, the tree would hold it forever. And on quiet days, you can hear these echoes of memories when the wind tricks the leaves. A young boy named Elias arrived in the village with his grandmother, leaving behind everything that he once knew. He felt inappropriate, watching how other children play while he was sitting alone under a tree. One evening, his grandmother joined him and carefully put his hand on a rough bark of a tree. "Do you want to share my memory with her?" She asked. "Does it really listen?" Asked Elias.
By Rabia Rizwan2 years ago in Fiction
Fragments of Faith
Harold Martin hadn’t always been a cynic. In fact, he had been a fairly optimistic child filled with life, joy, and hope for the future. That’s what drew him to the church in the first place. The hope found in Christ's message, the promise of eternal life, and the joy of community.
By Paul Plett2 years ago in Fiction
