family

The Brave Friend
The Brave Friend BY: Ubaid. The sun had already set, and darkness had slowly wrapped the village in its arms. Silence began to fill every corner of the narrow dirt road that led toward the forest. People passing by whispered to each other, “The headman Keshan Lal’s goat is as good as gone. A tiger will eat it tonight—or maybe a wolf.” I was that goat. Bound by a rope to a tree trunk at the edge of the forest, I stood trembling in fear. The chirping of crickets and the rustling of dry leaves felt like whispers of danger. Every sound made my heart pound faster. As the night deepened, the shadows grew darker, and the moon rose high above, casting long, eerie shapes on the ground. I could almost hear my own heartbeat. My mind drifted home. I missed my mother, who always called me her dearest one. I thought of my little sister, Chhoti, and how we used to play together in the field when the sky blushed with sunset colors. Now here I was—alone, tied to a tree, in the middle of the wild forest. “Oh, what will happen to me now?” I thought, as the wind howled softly through the trees. Somewhere far away, an owl hooted. Then came another sound—a deep growl that made my knees tremble. I wanted to cry, to scream for help, but then another thought struck me: What if the tiger hears me? My voice might lead him straight to me. So I stayed silent, my tears soaking into the dry earth beneath me. Just then, I saw something move in the shadows. My breath caught in my throat. A dark shape began to creep closer. My mind screamed—It’s the tiger!—but I couldn’t even move. My legs felt frozen. The shape came nearer and nearer, until suddenly it stopped. My eyes widened—it wasn’t a tiger. It was a rabbit! The little creature twitched its nose and stared at me curiously. Perhaps it wondered why a goat was tied up in the middle of the forest. But the moment it saw the rope around my neck, it got frightened and dashed away into the bushes. For a long time, I stood still. The forest around me seemed endless and full of secrets. The night grew colder and darker. Every rustle of the leaves, every whisper of the wind sounded like approaching footsteps. I kept thinking, Now the tiger is coming... now he’ll pounce... Hours passed like centuries. Then, I heard it—a soft sound of footsteps, slow and steady, coming closer from behind. My heart almost stopped. This is it, I thought. I’m done for. I shut my eyes tight, trembling from head to hoof. The footsteps stopped right beside me. Then I felt something—someone’s hand touching my neck. My whole body froze. This is the end, I thought. The tiger has caught me! But then, something strange happened. The hand felt… gentle. Warm. Soft—just like the little hands of my friend, Munna. I opened my eyes slightly, and there he was—Munna himself! My dear friend. His face glowed faintly in the moonlight. Without a word, he leaned forward and began untying the rope around my neck. When the knot came loose, he whispered in my ear, “Go! Run home quickly, before anyone sees you.” I didn’t even look back. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me—through the forest, across the fields, all the way toward the faint light of our village. When I finally reached home, I heard my mother calling out my name, her voice full of worry. “Where is my goat? Where is she?” The moment she saw me, her eyes filled with tears of relief. My little sister Chhoti squealed with joy, jumping up and down. I was safe—thanks to Munna. That night, I realized how deeply he cared for me. He wasn’t just a friend—he was a true companion who had risked his own safety to save my life. The next morning, the whole village woke up to a surprising sight. People gathered at the edge of the forest, murmuring excitedly. The tiger that had been haunting the area for weeks was caught! As it turned out, the tiger had come to the same spot during the night. He had tried to drink from a bucket of water left near the tree—and got trapped in the hunter’s net instead. The villagers quickly called the forest guards, who captured the tiger and sent him to the city zoo. When Munna heard the news, he just smiled quietly. He never took credit for saving me, though everyone knew it was because of his courage that both I survived and the tiger was caught. From that day on, Munna and I became inseparable. He would visit me every morning, feed me my favorite grass, and pat my head affectionately. I would wag my little tail and nuzzle his arm in return. Sometimes I still remember that terrifying night—the silence, the fear, the loneliness—but above all, I remember the warmth of Munna’s gentle hands and the bravery hidden in his small heart. I learned something precious that night: True friendship doesn’t need grand words or promises—it shows itself when one heart risks everything for another. And that’s how a young boy’s love saved a helpless goat, and turned a night of fear into a story of courage and friendship that our village still tells under the same moonlit sky.
By Ubaid 11 months ago in Fiction
Thermometer. Top Story - October 2025.
Three sharp pings alerted Emily that the oven had completed its preheating cycle. Donning two protective potholders, she inserted a large tray of muenster cheese-topped chicken breasts and an equally large tray of thoroughly seasoned Brussels sprouts. Two blood orange Le Creuset pots began to bubble on the stovetop, prompting the sous chef to slightly turn down the heat. With her left hand, Emily thoroughly folded the truffle-buttered mashed potatoes with a heart-shaped wooden spoon while her right hand unraveled the frozen slab of spinach with a three-pronged silver fork.
By Kale Sinclair11 months ago in Fiction
The Greedy Man and the Clever Beggar
The Greedy Man and the Clever Beggar BY: Ubaid Long ago, in a small village surrounded by green fields and tall palm trees, there lived a man known far and wide for one thing — his miserliness. He was so stingy that he counted every grain of rice before eating and measured every drop of oil before cooking. The villagers often said, “If stinginess were a disease, he’d be the first patient!” One hot afternoon, the miser was walking through the forest on his way to another village. As he walked, he noticed a tall date palm tree heavy with ripe, golden-brown dates. They looked juicy and delicious. His eyes lit up, and his mouth began to water. “Ah! Free food from heaven!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “No one is watching — these dates are all mine!” Without wasting a moment, he started climbing the tree eagerly. The higher he climbed, the greedier he became. He stuffed his pockets and even his hat with dates. But just as he was about to pluck one last bunch, a sharp sting pierced his arm. “Ouch!” he cried in pain. He looked up and saw a large beehive hanging from a branch nearby. Dozens of angry bees swarmed out, buzzing furiously around him. Panicked, he tried to climb down quickly — but then he looked below and saw something that froze his blood. Right under the tree was a deep well! One wrong move, and he’d fall straight into it. He clung to the tree, trembling. “Oh God!” he prayed desperately. “Please save me! If you spare my life, I promise I’ll feed a hundred poor beggars!” He slowly started descending the tree, his hands shaking with fear. After climbing down a little, he muttered under his breath, “Well… maybe not a hundred… seventy-five would be enough.” A few feet lower, he thought again, “Seventy-five is a bit too much. Let’s make it fifty.” As he got closer to the ground, he said quietly, “Alright… fifty’s still a lot. I’ll feed just twenty.” Finally, when his feet touched the ground safely, he sighed in relief and whispered, “Hmm… maybe I’ll feed just one beggar. That’s good enough, isn’t it?” And just like that, his fear disappeared — and so did his promise. That evening, he returned home and told his wife the entire story, exaggerating his bravery and cleverness. His wife, however, was a simple and honest woman. She said gently, “You made a vow to God. You must fulfill it, or you’ll face bad luck.” The miser frowned but finally agreed. “Alright, alright. Bring one beggar tomorrow, and I’ll feed him. But only one!” The next morning, his wife went out and found a poor beggar sitting by the roadside. Ironically, this beggar was just as greedy and cunning as her husband — perhaps even more! The beggar had a weak stomach and couldn’t eat much, but when he heard there was free food, his mind began to scheme. When he arrived at the miser’s house, the wife served him with great care — fresh bread, yogurt, sweet rice pudding, and milk. But before eating, the beggar said slyly, “Dear lady, I cannot eat this here. My stomach is delicate. Please pack everything for me.” The woman, thinking she was doing a good deed, packed everything neatly for him. As the beggar was about to leave, he said boldly, “And don’t forget my gift, my dear. Every kind host gives a gift to a holy man.” Confused but generous-hearted, the miser’s wife went inside and brought out two gold coins. She handed them over with a smile. The beggar walked away chuckling to himself, his bag full of food and gold jingling in his pocket. That evening, when the miser returned home, his wife proudly told him, “I invited a beggar and fulfilled your promise. He took the food and the coins happily.” The miser’s eyes widened. “Coins? What coins?!” “I gave him two gold ones,” she replied innocently. “He said it was his due as a holy man.” The miser’s face turned red with anger. “That thief tricked you! I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget!” He grabbed his walking stick and stormed toward the beggar’s hut. The beggar’s wife, however, was just as clever as her husband. When she saw the furious miser approaching from afar, she quickly ran outside and began shouting at the top of her voice. “Oh no! My poor husband! Someone must have poisoned his food! He’s terribly ill, dying even! Oh, what shall I do?” The miser froze in his tracks. “What? Poisoned? Dying?” His anger vanished instantly, replaced by fear. If the beggar died, people might accuse him of giving poisoned food! The woman pretended to cry loudly. “He’s suffering so much! If only I had money for a doctor!” Panicking, the miser said quickly, “Don’t cry, don’t cry! I’ll help! I’ll send two gold coins right away for his treatment!” The beggar’s wife thanked him dramatically while her husband, perfectly healthy, sat inside laughing silently. And so, the greedy miser, who tried to cheat God and the poor, ended up being cheated himself — not once, but twice! As the villagers later said, “There’s always someone greedier than a miser — and smarter than a fool.” --- Moral: Greed blinds judgment, and those who try to trick others often fall into their own trap.
By Ubaid 11 months ago in Fiction
The Bench Under the Old Tree
Every evening at five, the park became a quiet world of its own. Children’s laughter faded into the distance, the air turned golden, and the shadows grew longer — soft, sleepy, kind.
By Charlotte Cooper11 months ago in Fiction
Tattered Riches. Honorable Mention in Through the Keyhole Challenge.
The antique keyhole is hard to resist. Peering through, as if a portal to another time, my right eye adjusts to the dimness, swallowing the austere decrepitude of the baby blue foyer. I spy the yellowed edge of our Laidlaw coat of arms, framed in black wood. Gripping the smooth, age-burnished brass knob, I keep my eye to the hole, transfixed by dancing dust mites glittering in the dying sun’s rays cutting the small room into a pair of acute triangles.
By Cathy Schieffelin11 months ago in Fiction
Homecoming
The stairs to the attic still creak, as if anyone who makes their way up here, must be announced first. Spirits and mice need to prepare for visitors.
By Cathy Schieffelin11 months ago in Fiction
Dancing With The Dead
Ta-tum, ta-tum, rat-a-tat-tat, ta-tum; I will never forget the sound, that particular sound on a certain October morning. It was one week following the Autumn Equinox. Just another neighborhood drumming moment- normal in my community, but on this day, the beat to dancing feet synchronized something most surreal, forever altering my vision of the deceased.
By Marilyn Glover11 months ago in Fiction
The Clever Fox and the Greedy Duck
The Clever Fox and the Greedy Duck BY:Khan It was the heart of winter. The forest, once green and full of life, now lay covered in a thick blanket of snow. Trees that had once been lush and green appeared pure white. The wind was sharp, and the cold was bitter. Silence had settled over the woods — not the peaceful kind, but the heavy stillness that came after days of snowfall. Those animals who had been wise enough to store food before winter were now resting comfortably inside their burrows, enjoying the fruits of their preparation. But those who hadn’t planned ahead were struggling — shivering in the snow, wandering through the frozen woods in search of something, anything, to eat. Among them lived a fox and his wife. The female fox, clever and foresighted, had gathered dry bread crumbs and bits of leftover food before winter arrived. Her husband, however, was lazy — one of those who preferred sleeping to hunting. During warmer days, the fox often hunted fat rabbits and plump partridges for dinner. But now, with everything frozen and the prey hidden in their burrows, her collection of stale bread was the only thing keeping them from starving. One night, when the rabbit was visiting his grandmother and the partridge was nowhere to be found, the fox couple had no choice but to eat those old, hard bread pieces. The next morning, the clever fox set out through the freezing forest, hoping to find something fresh to eat. But after searching for hours, she returned empty-handed. Her husband, the lazy fox, was waiting impatiently at the entrance of their den. “Did you find anything?” he asked, his voice full of irritation. The vixen gave him a cold stare. “Find what? In this freezing weather, who do you think is out there to be found?” “So we’ll have to eat stale bread again?” he grumbled. “Workless mouths shouldn’t complain about food!” she snapped. “You never help. Maybe try hunting for once in your life!” Muttering in frustration, she brought out the box where she had stored the stale bread pieces and placed them in front of him. “Until we find something better, this is what we’ll have to survive on.” She began chewing the dry pieces, while the male fox sat staring at them with disgust. “My teeth ache from these hard crumbs,” he said after a moment. “I wish I could have some fresh meat today.” “Wishes don’t fill stomachs,” she said bitterly. “You want everything without lifting a paw. I must be the unluckiest fox alive, married to such a lazy fool!” The male fox said nothing. But after a while, hunger forced him to pick up a piece of bread and chew reluctantly. Just then, a faint fluttering sound broke the silence. The foxes looked up — four ducks were circling in the sky, and moments later they landed nearby, pecking at the snow. The ducks noticed the foxes eating something and waddled closer, hoping they might get a few crumbs. The vixen turned her back — she had worked hard to collect those scraps and wasn’t about to share them. But her husband, moved either by boredom or foolishness, picked up a large bread piece and tossed it toward the ducks. Instantly, all four ducks rushed toward it, but one strong, plump duck snatched the piece and swallowed it whole. The male fox threw another piece. Again, the same greedy duck seized it before the others could touch it. A third piece followed, and once again, the same duck got it. The vixen turned furiously toward her husband. “Are you out of your mind? Why are you wasting our food?” “My stomach hurts from these dry crumbs,” he said calmly. “I’m just feeding the ducks.” And with that, he tossed a fourth and fifth piece. Each time, the greedy duck claimed them all, bullying her companions away. The other ducks quacked angrily, but the glutton beat them off with her wings. The vixen shook her head. “What a greedy creature — she’s eating everyone’s share!” Her husband didn’t respond. Instead, he kept throwing the crumbs closer and closer to where he sat. Finally, after devouring so much, the greedy duck’s belly became round and heavy. She could barely walk, let alone fly. Yet she still waddled toward the fox, hoping for more. “That’s enough!” the vixen shouted. “You’ve given away everything we had!” The male fox didn’t even look at her. He tossed one last piece, landing it just beside him. The greedy duck couldn’t resist — she stepped closer, then a little closer still. And in the very next moment, the fox sprang forward and caught her in his jaws. The duck tried to flap her wings, but she was too full to escape. The other three ducks squawked in alarm and flew off into the pale sky. Triumphantly, the male fox carried the plump duck into their den. He plucked her feathers and presented the meat to his wife. “I may be lazy,” he said proudly, “but I’m not foolish. Now you see why I fed her all our bread.” The vixen looked at him in surprise, her anger melting into admiration. “You truly are clever,” she admitted. Together, they enjoyed the warm, delicious duck meat while the snow fell quietly outside their den. From that day on, the vixen never again called her husband lazy — though deep down, she knew it wasn’t hard work but clever thinking that had saved them from another hungry night. --- Moral: Clever thinking and patience can achieve what strength or hard work sometimes cannot. Even the laziest can outsmart the cleverest when the time comes.
By Khan 11 months ago in Fiction
The Birth of the Sea Fairies
The Birth of the Sea Fairies BY:Khan Once upon a time, there was an age when the ocean had no fairies at all. Every creature in the sea knew that fairies were the kindest of all beings — gentle spirits who cared deeply for every living thing. Whenever someone fell ill, faced misfortune, or needed help, it was always the fairies who came to their aid with tender compassion. So the sea creatures grew sorrowful. They wondered among themselves, “What wrong have we done? Why don’t the fairies come to live among us?” Their hearts ached with loneliness. They longed for the same comfort and kindness that the earth and sky enjoyed under the fairies’ care. At last, the wisest of the sea creatures gathered together. They decided to send an envoy to the Land of Fairies — Paristan. The envoy would plead with the Fairy King himself to send some of his fairies to live in the sea. When the envoy arrived at the dazzling palace of the Fairy King, he bowed deeply and said, “Your Majesty, our ocean is vast and full of life, but it lacks the beauty and grace of your fair folk. If you would send some fairies to dwell with us, we promise to treat them with kindness and honor. They shall never know sorrow or neglect, and we will do everything in our power to keep them happy.” The Fairy King listened thoughtfully. Then he turned to the fairies gathered around his throne and asked, “You have heard the request of the sea’s envoy. Tell me — who among you is willing to go and live beneath the blue waves of the ocean?” A hushed silence fell over the court. The fairies exchanged anxious glances. Finally, one fairy spoke timidly, “Your Majesty, forgive us, but we do not wish to go. The ocean is dark and deep — we belong to the open skies and the flowered meadows.” The King nodded and called for the forest fairies. When they arrived, he asked the same question. But they, too, shook their heads. “How could we leave these green forests,” they said, “these orchards filled with fruit and blossoms, these singing birds and playful animals? We cannot abandon our woods for the cold, endless sea.” The King then called the mountain fairies, the meadow fairies, and the breeze fairies. One by one, each group refused. None wished to live beneath the waves. At last, only the water fairies remained — the delicate spirits who lived in ponds, lakes, and wells. The King turned to them and asked gently, “What about you, my daughters of water? Would you be willing to make your home in the sea?” To everyone’s surprise, the water fairies brightened with joy. “Oh, Your Majesty!” they exclaimed. “We have always dreamed of such a chance! We are weary of the little ponds and streams that trap us in narrow places. How wonderful it would be to live in the vast and mighty ocean! Think of it — a world without walls, filled with wonders we have never seen!” They laughed with excitement, their eyes shining like dew in sunlight. “But…” one fairy hesitated softly, “we have two concerns. How shall we breathe and live in such deep waters? And, most of all, how can we leave behind the friends and places we have loved for so long — and you, our dear King and Queen? We fear we may never see you again.” The Fairy King smiled kindly. “Do not fear, my children,” he said. “I will take care of all these things. When the night is bright with moonlight, you may rise to the surface and come ashore. There, on the sands, we will meet and sing and dance together. During the day, you may rest in the depths and do your work among the sea creatures. “As for living in the water — I will change your form. You shall no longer need to breathe air as mortals do. Your feet will become graceful tails, like those of fish, so that you may swim swiftly and freely. You will be even more beautiful than before.” Hearing this, the envoy of the sea was overjoyed. His mission had succeeded. The water fairies were also filled with happiness — they had just been granted a new world to explore. When the fairies reached the seashore, they stood for a moment, gazing at the vast, shimmering ocean. Then, as the waves touched their feet, a marvelous transformation began. Their dainty feet fused together, turning into delicate fish tails that shimmered with silver and blue. Their gowns rippled like waves, and their laughter echoed over the waters. Gracefully, they dived into the sea, cutting through the waves with effortless beauty. They had become the Sea Fairies — the guardians of the deep. Beneath the surface, they found countless creatures — large and small, timid and fierce. But the fairies soon saw that the strong often tormented the weak. Big fish chased and devoured the smaller ones. The fairies’ gentle hearts were filled with sorrow. They knew their task at once: to bring kindness and harmony to this new kingdom. So they began their work — healing, guiding, and protecting every creature of the ocean. Under their care, the sea grew peaceful and full of joy. Whenever storms came, the Sea Fairies would rise, calming the angry waves with their songs. And when moonlight touched the water, they would dance upon it, remembering their promise to visit their King and Queen above. Thus began the age of the Sea Fairies — the shimmering spirits who still guard the ocean’s heart, unseen but always near, singing softly through the tides.
By Khan 11 months ago in Fiction
The Last Letter Home
The sound of the postman’s boots on the gravel was enough to send Clara’s heart racing every morning. It had been three months since James left for the front, and every letter that arrived carried the warmth of his presence, even across oceans and battlefields. She lived for the scratch of his handwriting, the way he always signed off with “All my love, always — James.”
By Asghar ali awan11 months ago in Fiction
Etha and May. Top Story - October 2025.
Etha and May are as different as night is to day. If we are to be particular, we would say one wore red and the other, shades of mild yellow. Both are strong willed, set in their ways, motherly Black women. Etha lives upstairs in the quaint three story house in the Brookdale neighborhood of East 55th street of Brooklyn, NY. May occupied the apartment somewhere between the ground floor and the middle of the house.
By Antoni De'Leon11 months ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Spoke to the Stars. AI-Generated.
In a small, quiet town that smelled of damp earth and lavender, there lived a girl who everyone simply called Fairy Girl. It wasn't because she was particularly ethereal or wore wings; it was because of her eyes. They were the colour of twilight, and when she looked at you, it felt as though she saw not just you, but the constellation of quiet wishes you carried deep inside.
By fairy girl11 months ago in Fiction