Love

Unwritten on Their Graves. Content Warning.
In a cramped California apartment, eighteen-year-old Leo lived with his mother and two younger siblings, twelve year old Jasmine and eight year old Marcus. Their mother, a woman of quiet grit, had been left to raise them alone, scraping by on the meager wages of a diner job.Life had dealt her a harsh hand, and the family’s fragile balance was further shattered by Marcus’s battle with anemia. The medical bills drained what little they had, while the constant worry gnawed at them all. Leo watched his mother fight each day with unyielding determination, and though his heart burned to ease her burden, he was just a high school senior, too young, too powerless, yet aching to do more. To ease his mother’s burden, Leo had taken a part-time job at a local diner, slipping into an apron right after school while his classmates rushed off to sports or friends. Whether it was scrubbing greasy grills, bussing tables, or running orders, he did it all without complaint.The pay was barely enough to make a dent in their mounting expenses, yet Leo clung to it with quiet determination. Every shift was not only a reminder of his struggle, but also of his dream, a dream to rise above these barriers, and build a better life not just for himself, but for the people he loved most. One evening, as his mother returned from another long shift, Leo pulled her aside. His SAT results had arrived, good enough for college. Her tired face lit up with pride as she embraced him, certain her sacrifices were paying off. But Leo’s voice wavered as he confessed the catch: his scores weren’t high enough for a full scholarship, and he refused to drag the family deeper into debt. She pressed his shoulders, assuring him they would find a way and that he should focus on his future. Still, even as she smiled, Leo couldn’t ignore the worry lingering in her weary eyes. As graduation crept closer, Leo’s excitement was overshadowed by a growing weight of anxiety. The future loomed uncertain, with college slipping further from reach. Then one afternoon, a notice on the school bulletin board caught his eye, a career fair was coming to the gymnasium. It felt like a chance, to carve out a path forward, a way to bridge the gap until college could become more than just a dream. On the day of the job fair, Leo wandered aimlessly from stall to stall, scanning pamphlets and half-listening to pitches about door-to-door sales jobs, trade certifications, and odd apprenticeships. None of it felt like a future worth chasing. His steps slowed before the U.S. Army booth. Two recruiters in crisp uniforms greeted him with practiced smiles and a confidence that set them apart from the rest. They spoke of opportunities, college scholarships, steady pay, health care for families, benefits that struck directly at the heart of Leo’s worries. But it wasn’t only the promises that drew him in. The idea of wearing the uniform, of serving something greater than himself, stirred a sense of purpose he hadn’t known he was searching for. By the time he walked away, Leo no longer felt uncertain. He had found his path: the Army would be his way forward, and he was ready to take it the moment high school ended. When Leo told his mother about his decision, her reaction was far from proud. Fear and anger flashed across her face as she called the Army a path toward a coffin. She reminded him of all she had sacrificed to protect her children, of Marcus’s illness that already kept her awake at night, and insisted she could not bear to see another son chasing death. But Leo’s resolve did not waver. The arguments grew louder and more frequent in the days that followed, yet no amount of pleading or warning could pull him away from the choice he had already made. At last, the day of Leo’s high school graduation arrived, and for a brief moment the family allowed themselves to breathe. Laughter filled the small apartment, and even his mother set her worries aside to celebrate her son’s milestone. But the reprieve was short-lived. Soon after, Leo sat for the Army’s recruitment test; and passed. The letter that followed was swift and decisive: he was to report to Fort Benning for basic training. The weight of reality returned, heavier than ever, as the course of Leo’s future was sealed. The day Leo left, his mother wept as she begged him to remember he could always turn back, that home would always be waiting. Jasmine hugged him tightly, whispering for him to take care, while Marcus received the firmest embrace of all, as if Leo could somehow protect him from afar. At last, his mother stood before him, her tear-filled eyes heavy with fear of what lay ahead. With a final goodbye, Leo stepped away, his heart burdened yet fueled by the dream of building a better life for himself and the family he loved. And so began Leo’s journey, one that would carry him to the other side of the world, into the unforgiving landscapes of Afghanistan. It was a path that would shape him and shatter him, forcing him to witness and endure things he had never imagined. In the heart of war, Leo would be tested not only as a soldier but as a son, a brother, and a man torn between duty and conscience. Follow his story in the novel "Unwritten On Their Graves", a haunting tale of sacrifice, morality, and the human cost of war, now available on Amazon. Get your copy today.
By Munawar Sheikhabout a year ago in Fiction
A successful woman
Chapter 1 ‘And, the best businessman award goes to..’ everybody was awaiting to hear the result. The hall became silent for the announcement. Everybody dropped their champagne glasses on the table and turned towards the stage. Tim Cook, the most successful entrepreneur was opening the seal of the cover to read out the name. Even the president of the country was eager to know the winner. That’s because, this is the most prestigious award in the business and entrepreneurship world. Though there are millions of people doing business and running successful companies at a competitive level, this accolade is given to only one person in a year, who is selected by the federal government from the whole world. The survey and nomination for this run round the year, and the leading entrepreneurs choose the best one from this pile of the most successful people. The microphone was handed over to Tim Cook after he opened the envelope. He chuckled after seeing the name. He said in the mic ‘This is not a man, this is a woman, whose company is the best one, running successfully till now. She has captured the whole of the medical and healthcare sector round and world and she is now sitting like a queen in the throne.’ All the faces became more curious to hear the awardee. He continued ‘I am personally following her company for the past two years. It is flourishing in an exponential rate, conquering the medical field.’ And after saying this, he held the card firmly in his hands and uttered the main part of the speech.’And this prestigious award goes to, CLARIE.’ The whole audience just rose up from their chairs while clapping their hands, and there she came, from the most last seats of the auditorium. Her hair just brushed in professionally, with a simple clip, wearing a brick red blazer and pants, and a white shirt, perfectly fitted brown lenses in her eyes, with her perfectly trimmed eyebrows. Her shoe sounds echoed along with the applauses she was getting. She was just waving her hands to everyone, while walking to the stage. The clapping sound intensified more when she got over the stage to get the award. ‘Congradulations!’ said Tim Cook as he handed over the award to Ms. Clarie. ‘Thank you.’ She whispered gently onto his ears, amongst the loud sound of clapping. The anchor said ‘ Ms. Clarie Benneth, can you share a few words about how this award is important to you.’ The clapping sound slowly faded and everyone started to take their seats as she was walking towards the podium. The anchor moved as she adjusted the microphone to give the speech. ‘This is my lifetime achievent’ started Clarie. ‘When I was doing my undergraduation, it was my dream to start a company which will discover drugs at affordable rates, to help the people who are suffering to get quality healthcare at low costs. And here I am, after completing two masters after my Undergraduation, and after breaking my head to figure out the best way to achieve this. It is really a Herculean task for a woman to run a company independently, in this male- dominated field, but special gratitude goes to my mentors and partners, who always lent me a hand when I was sinking in my career. I dedicate this award to every woman who is striving to get a recognition in her field and remember, you got this.’ Loud clapping filled the hall as she beautifully carried her award down the stage, with the prettiest smile in her face.
By Varshniabout a year ago in Fiction
Even in Dreams. Runner-Up in The Shape of the Thing Challenge.
Despite living so close to an airport, we never stopped and truly appreciated the sight of the different passenger flights soaring into the sky. I remember vividly lying one day beside you, recently, watching the vapour trails as another steel bird left for adventures in faraway places.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Fiction
The Hiding Angel
The little boy’s innocent face, his tiny hands covering his eyes—it seemed as if he wanted to hide from the entire world. His name was Ayan. Only five years old, yet his eyes carried a sadness that even grown-ups could not bear.
By New stAr writer about a year ago in Fiction
The Weaver's Paradox
The old cabin by the lake hummed with the quiet symphony of a late autumn evening. Outside, the wind whispered secrets through the skeletal branches of ancient oaks, and the first tentative drops of rain tapped against the windowpanes. Inside, a fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the rustic walls. Elara sat curled in a large armchair, a half-read book forgotten in her lap, her gaze fixed on Liam, who was meticulously arranging a new log on the fire. Their silence was not empty, but full, woven with years of shared understanding and a love that had grown as steadily and deeply as the forest around them.
By Mehrdad Rajabiabout a year ago in Fiction
Love Potion
Evelyn was not a believer in magic. She believed in coffee, deadlines, and the healing power of online shopping, but spells and charms? Absolutely not. That changed the day she stumbled upon a peculiar little shop tucked between a bakery and a laundromat. The door creaked open, releasing a scent of lavender, cinnamon, and something faintly metallic. The shelves inside were cluttered with jars, crystals, and dusty tomes. An elderly shopkeeper with mischievous eyes shuffled forward. “You look like someone who needs a little… spark,” he said, handing her a vial filled with shimmering pink liquid. Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “And this is?” “A love potion,” he said matter-of-factly. “Guaranteed results.” She laughed. “I don’t even have a cat. Who would I test it on?” The man leaned in. “Careful, dear. Love is never predictable.” Evelyn bought it anyway—partly out of curiosity, partly because it was cheaper than therapy. She stuffed the vial in her bag and forgot about it. The Accident That evening, her best friend Marcus came over for their usual pizza-and-movie night. He rummaged through her fridge, pulled out a soda, and without asking, poured it into a glass. Evelyn didn’t notice until she spotted the vial on the counter—empty. Her jaw dropped. “Marcus! Did you—” “Relax, it was just soda,” he said, sipping happily. Except it wasn’t. Within minutes, Marcus began staring at her as if she were a Renaissance painting. His casual jokes turned into poetic declarations. He offered to fold her laundry, fix her leaky sink, and write sonnets about her freckles. Evelyn froze. “Oh no. Oh no no no.” Chaos Unleashed By the next morning, things spiraled. Marcus showed up at her office with a bouquet so large it barely fit through the door. He serenaded her in the lobby. He even tried to fight the barista who dared spell her name wrong on a latte cup. Evelyn couldn’t take it. This wasn’t Marcus—the funny, dependable friend who once helped her move apartments and carried all the heavy boxes without complaining. This was a lovesick knight in shining armor, and it was exhausting. She stormed back to the shop, only to find the shopkeeper polishing a crystal ball. “You didn’t tell me it worked this well!” she shouted. He chuckled. “I told you—love is unpredictable.” “I need an antidote,” she said. “Ah,” he replied, stroking his beard. “There isn’t one.” Her stomach dropped. “What do you mean there isn’t one?” He smiled slyly. “Love potions fade only when true feelings are revealed. Until then, chaos reigns.” The Truth Comes Out For the next week, Evelyn tried everything to snap Marcus out of it. She ignored him. She yelled at him. She even wore sweatpants with mustard stains, hoping to scare him off. Nothing worked. Finally, one night, she sat him down. “Marcus, this isn’t you,” she said. “You don’t actually love me. It’s the potion.” But Marcus just looked at her, his expression softening. “Evelyn… potion or not, do you really think I’ve been hanging out with you every Friday for the last five years just for the pizza?” Her heart skipped. “Wait. Are you saying…?” He nodded. “I’ve been in love with you long before some sparkly drink got involved. The potion just made it impossible to hide.” Suddenly, the magic began to fade. The desperate gestures stopped. The dramatic serenades quieted. What remained was Marcus—her real Marcus—looking at her with nervous, honest eyes. A Different Kind of Magic Evelyn realized then that maybe love wasn’t about grand spells or magical shortcuts. Maybe it was about years of shared laughter, comfort, and little moments that went unnoticed. She smiled. “Well, in that case, maybe we should test this love thing—without the glittery chemicals.” Marcus grinned. “Best experiment ever.” And for the first time, Evelyn believed in magic—just not the bottled kind.
By LUNA EDITHabout a year ago in Fiction
The Princess of Ireland – A Woman Who Fought with Love and Fire
The Princess of Ireland – A Tale of Love and Sacrifice The spring of 1972 carried both silence and uproar through the air of Ireland. Silence filled the streets where children no longer played, while uproar dominated the battlefields where the British army clashed with Irish freedom fighters. Every day, the rattling of bullets and the thundering of explosions reminded people that they were still chained in slavery, and the dawn of freedom was yet to come.
By New stAr writer about a year ago in Fiction
Hello, Again
Early evening, exactly 6pm. She knew this because she glanced at her phone. The clock tower behind her struck. Six, strong chimes, each more confident than the last. Then, finally, peace and quiet. The park resumed its normal, slow pace of life.
By Elizabeth Butlerabout a year ago in Fiction
The Treasure of Simple Days
There was a time when we did not have much. We lived with very little, and life was often difficult. Yet, in those days, we were truly happy. Happiness came not from wealth, but from the bonds we shared with each other.
By Mudasir Hakeemi about a year ago in Fiction
“Echoes of an Evening Walk”
write by [MR HASHAM] Echoes of the Evening Walk Sham dhal rahi thi, asmaan ne suraj ke peeche laal aur sunehri rang phela diye the. Aaliya apni beti Sana ka haath pakad kar purane kachay raste par chal rahi thi. Dono ki chaal halki thi, jaise waqt ko zara dheere karna chahti ho.
By Muhammad hashamabout a year ago in Fiction
The Pizza That Called 911
The Pizza That Called 911 A Hilarious Tale of Cheese, Crust, and Chaos It all started on a Friday night when Jake Thompson decided to order pizza. Now, Jake wasn’t the kind of guy who cooked. The last time he boiled water, he set off the smoke alarm. The time before that, he burned cereal. (Yes, cereal. No one knows how.) So when it came to dinner, Jake had two options: microwave meals or pizza delivery.
By Muhammad Azeemullahabout a year ago in Fiction
When the Silence Spoke Louder
The room was small, but not empty. Every corner seemed to hold something unspoken, something waiting. A clock ticked on the wall, but the sound wasn’t what I noticed. It was the silence between the ticks — the kind that presses against your chest until you can hardly breathe.
By Nasir Aliabout a year ago in Fiction