Fan Fiction
The Last Message She Never Sent"
It was raining when Mia found the phone—his phone—buried beneath a pile of old books in the drawer she had been avoiding for six months. Dust clung to the edges like a second skin, and her heart stuttered the moment her fingers brushed the familiar case.
By Atif Badshahabout a year ago in Fiction
Before the Amen: A Teenage Gospel. Winner in Leave the Light On Challenge.
That was the night she could never forget. She remembered her childhood—when she thought she knew the truth. The Holy Word lived in her mind, in every memory cell. She knew her Bible better than any textbook. Even though she was an A student at school, the Bible remained her strongest subject. She could quote any book, either from the Old Testament or the New. She knew the chosen people—and often reminded herself how lucky she was to be one of them.
By Nina Domrichevaabout a year ago in Fiction
Leave the Light On
It started with the wind. The shutters on the old farmhouse banged open and shut in the gusts like the frantic heartbeat of the night. Rain slapped against the windows as thunder rolled somewhere off in the dark hills. Inside, the house groaned with each blast of wind, an ancient structure battling time and weather alike.
By AFTAB KHANabout a year ago in Fiction
The Summer That Wasn’t
I had a map. Not a literal one, though I did buy one of the laminated ones at the gas station, blue veins of interstate highways cutting through the country like restless arteries. But this map was in my head—of beaches, of reunions, of laughter over bonfires. Of promises made in spring when everything still felt possible.
By AFTAB KHANabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Golden Egg
Once upon a time in a small, peaceful village nestled between green hills and flowing rivers, there lived a poor farmer named Karim. He owned a tiny mud house, a worn-out plow, and five skinny hens that hardly laid eggs. Life was hard, but Karim was kind-hearted and never complained. One morning, while feeding his hens, Karim noticed something strange. One of the hens—a quiet little one with golden-brown feathers—had laid an egg that shimmered like sunlight. He picked it up and gasped. “This... this looks like gold!” He ran to the village jeweler who examined the egg carefully. “Karim,” the jeweler whispered, wide-eyed, “this is no ordinary egg. It’s solid gold!” Karim could hardly believe his luck. He sold the egg and used the money to repair his house, buy warm clothes, and stock his kitchen with food for the winter. The next morning, the same hen laid another golden egg. Then another. And another. Karim named her Noori — “the shining one.” The Rise of the Rich Farmer Within a month, Karim became the wealthiest man in the village. He bought more land, built a big farmhouse, and hired helpers. But with wealth came pride — and something worse: greed. He started to isolate himself, avoiding the neighbors who once helped him. He stopped sharing food with the poor. Even his old friends began to whisper, “Karim has changed.” But Noori the hen remained the same — gentle, quiet, and always laying one golden egg every morning. A Dangerous Thought One evening, as Karim sat in his candlelit drawing room, staring at a row of gleaming golden eggs, a dark idea slithered into his mind. “If Noori lays one golden egg every day,” he thought, “then surely, her belly must be full of gold. What if I took it all at once? I’d never have to wait again.” The thought grew like a weed. He tried to resist it, but greed whispered louder each night. Finally, unable to hold back, Karim made a plan. The next morning, instead of feeding Noori, he picked her up, took her behind the house, and ended her life. He opened her gently, expecting to find piles of golden treasure. But there was nothing — no gold, no special organs — only the fragile, ordinary remains of a hen. Karim dropped to his knees. His heart sank. He had killed the very creature that had lifted him from poverty — for nothing. He buried Noori behind his house, his hands shaking. The Fall The next few days were filled with silence. No more golden eggs. The helpers left. The money dried up. He sold his land, then his furniture, and finally moved back into the same old mud house where he had started. But this time, he was not poor — he was broken. The villagers whispered, “He was given a miracle… and he destroyed it with his own hands.” Ashamed and alone, Karim spent his days sitting near Noori’s grave. Every evening, he placed a small bowl of grain and fresh water there, whispering, “I’m sorry, Noori. I didn’t deserve your gift.” The Unexpected Visitor One rainy night, many months later, Karim heard a soft cluck outside his window. He rushed out and saw a little hen standing in the rain. She looked almost exactly like Noori. Shocked, he picked her up, dried her gently, and gave her a place to rest. “I won't ask anything from you,” he said to her. “You’re safe here.” The next morning, Karim went to the coop to feed her. He found a single, small, white egg — perfectly ordinary. And yet, he smiled. He knew now that some things were worth more than gold — kindness, patience, and the chance to start again. Years Later… Karim never became rich again. But he became something better — respected. He taught children in the village about honesty and gratitude. He gave away eggs and helped neighbors fix their roofs and plant their gardens. When children asked about the golden egg story, he would say: “Yes, it's true. But the real magic wasn’t the gold. It was the chance to learn that waiting is better than rushing… and that love should never be traded for greed.” The village changed too. People began to share more. They looked after their animals with extra care, and they often said, “Don’t forget what happened to Karim and the hen with the golden egg.” --- Moral of the Story: Greed can destroy the very blessings we receive. True wealth lies not in gold, but in gratitude, patience, and the courage to learn from our mistakes.
By Muhammad Bilalabout a year ago in Fiction
The Quiet Light
Mira was always surrounded by people—classmates, coworkers, even family—but somehow, loneliness trailed her like a quiet shadow. She laughed at the right moments, helped others when they asked, and replied with “I’m fine” when anyone bothered to ask how she was.
By silent spokeabout a year ago in Fiction
In his own trap
The people of a small village were simple and noble. Their goodness and hospitality were famous far and wide. In the same village there lived a wise man. People used to listen to his advice, but they did not follow it. When a thug heard about him, he arrived in this village in a very bad state and told the people a false story of his robbery.
By Echoes of Lifeabout a year ago in Fiction
Ashes Where the Snow Should Fall
It was supposed to snow that night. The air had that sharp, metallic taste that always comes before winter, and the world held itself in a kind of breathless pause. The weather reports swore a blizzard was on its way. The children in town were already giddy at the thought of waking to a white world, to sleds and snowmen and steaming mugs of cocoa.
By Hanif Ullah about a year ago in Fiction
The Letter I Was Never Meant to Read
By Nadeem Shah I found the letter by accident. Tucked inside the back of my mother’s worn-out recipe book, behind a page smudged with gravy stains and faint ink scribbles about nutmeg, was an envelope that didn’t belong. It was brittle, yellowed with age, and sealed with a faded wax stamp I didn’t recognize.
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Fiction
The Bookstore That Only Opens at Midnight
he Bookstore That Only Opens at Midnight I stumbled upon it by accident or maybe, as I now believe, it found me. It was just past midnight on a rainy Thursday when I saw a faint light flicker in the corner of an old alley I had walked past a hundred times before. Between two abandoned buildings stood a narrow, ivy-covered doorway with a crooked wooden sign swinging in the wind. It simply read: “Open”.
By Farooq Hashmiabout a year ago in Fiction
