Fantasy
Dodge Tanner vs Hostile Workplace Discrimination. (The Art of Dodge-ing Responsibility)
Dodge Tanner lounged in his favorite spot at the Barrow and Barrel tavern, a half-empty goblet of the local vintage swirling lazily in his hand. The dim tavern light cast lazy shadows over the parchment map, a document so thoroughly ignored it might as well have been a coaster sat beneath his elbow, forgotten in favor of the pressing matter of deciding whether the blackberry merlot or the apricot chardonnay deserved the title of the coveted Tanner Title 'Finest Wine of the Valley.' (Coveted by Dodge Tanner, at least, as his attempts to get the competition officialized has thus far gone unappreciated.)
By Canyon Cappola (TheNomad)about a year ago in Fiction
The Grief Eater: Trapped Inside the Bodies I Consumed
THE FIRST TIME I ate someone’s grief, it was an accident. My aunt had just died, and my cousin couldn’t stop crying at the funeral. She clutched her mother’s wedding ring so tight her knuckles grew white. When she hugged me, she pressed the ring into my palm.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Fiction
Static in the Signal
It started with a flicker. A blinking cursor. A screen that wouldn’t load. Jamie slammed his laptop shut like it had betrayed him — again. Third time this week. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face, feeling the texture of another sleepless night creeping into his skin.
By Ahmed Rayhanabout a year ago in Fiction
Whispers Beneath the Surface
A Desert of Dust and Silence In a quiet desert village where the wind often carried more dust than sound, Lina lived with her grandmother in a small clay house. Life here was dry in more ways than one — the air, the soil, and often, the spirit. The days passed with chores, silence, and stories whispered under flickering lanterns. But nestled at the edge of the village stood an ancient, half-forgotten mosque, and beside it, a cracked stone well that hadn’t been used for years. The villagers said its water had vanished. Lina discovered otherwise.
By Hanifullah Hanifabout a year ago in Fiction
"The Black Hospitality Law: The Curse of the Adel Family"
Chapter 1: The Sinister Pact Cairo, 1995 On a dark winter night, four university students gathered in a crumbling apartment in Sayyida Zeinab. Between glasses of cold hibiscus tea and nervous laughter, they dared to challenge the forbidden: summoning a spirit using a Ouija board.
By Ahmed Abdeenabout a year ago in Fiction
Infiltration
Chapter 3: Infiltration Silence is Their Weapon. Truth is Their Target. The rain had stopped, but the air was still soaked with tension. Every footstep echoed like a drumbeat inside Adam Rahman’s head. Tonight was the night. No more simulations. No more dry runs. It was time to enter the belly of the beast.
By Kevin Hudsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Gathering Storm
Chapter 2: Gathering Storm The Enemy Moves in Silence. So Must We. The silence in the safehouse was thick—only broken by the humming of hard drives and the occasional soft beep from encrypted monitors. Adam Rahman stood at the center of the room, arms crossed, eyes locked on the digital map projected on the wall. Red dots blinked steadily, each representing a target—men and women in power, hidden behind diplomatic immunity and coded language, who were, according to their intel, architects of a sinister plan.
By Kevin Hudsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Shadows of the Past
Chapter 1: Shadows of the Past The warm, golden light of dawn washed over the city of Tel Aviv, casting long shadows over its modern skyline. But for Adam Rahman, the light could never touch the cold corners of his memory. He stood still at his apartment window, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea, eyes locked on the distant horizon. To most, this was just another morning. To Adam, it was the start of something dark. Again.
By Kevin Hudsonabout a year ago in Fiction
Lemonade Skies
The first thing Ava noticed when she stepped off the bus was the smell of lemons. Not strong, not artificial — just faint enough to feel real. The kind of scent that danced through the summer breeze and reminded her of freedom, even if she hadn’t felt it in a long time.
By Esther Sunabout a year ago in Fiction
