Love

3 Hours, No Plan, All Magic
It wasn’t penciled on any calendar. It didn’t arrive with a polite reminder email or a neatly blocked square in my planner.
By Hamayun Khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Residency
“A residency?” “Yes mama,” I sighed. “What does that mean?” she asked. “I live there with twelve other artists,” I said.
By Raine Fielderabout a year ago in Fiction
My Imaginary Friend Turned Real Overnight
When I was seven, I had an imaginary friend named Eli. He had messy hair, a crooked smile, and an endless supply of encouragement.
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Letter – A Love That Never Ended
Rain pattered softly against the windowpane. Inside, the room was wrapped in a stillness broken only by the delicate tapping of raindrops. Saba sat at an old wooden desk, a yellowed letter trembling in her hands, its ink faded by time. Her damp hair clung to her shoulders, but her gaze was lost in every word on the paper.
By New stAr writer about a year ago in Fiction
I'm Done. Content Warning.
I really feel painful, my stomach feels very uncomfortable. I ate a lot yesterday and had 2 diarrheas at night and in the morning.
By PlanetExabout a year ago in Fiction
*The Clockmaker's Promise*
In a quiet town nestled between rolling hills and a slow-moving river, there stood a small shop with a crooked sign that read “Timeless Hands.” Inside, the air was warm and still, filled with the soft, steady rhythm of ticking clocks. Wall clocks, pocket watches, mantel clocks—they all chimed and clicked in quiet harmony, each keeping time in its own way.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
Operation Lassi Spill
It was one of those golden Punjabi afternoons—the kind where the sun hangs warm in the sky, the air smells of cardamom and fresh roti, and every lane in the village hums with celebration. A wedding was in full swing, the biggest the village had seen in years. Banners fluttered above the courtyard, children darted between guests with sticky fingers, and uncles danced with the kind of energy that defied their age.
By meerjananabout a year ago in Fiction
Chaos. Content Warning.
I know, it's my problem. I miss him too much. I can't help but think of him. I can't follow the advice from ChatGPT not to check his status. I miss him so much, I can't text him, call him, or visit him. But I can at least look at him online. I know he's not there, and he won't text me with a high possibility.
By PlanetExabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Shop on Memory Lane. AI-Generated.
Story It was the kind of place you could walk past a hundred times without seeing. Tucked between a boarded-up bakery and a shuttered tailor’s shop stood a narrow storefront with a hand-painted sign: The Last Shop on Memory Lane. The letters were faded, the window display cluttered with mismatched odds and ends—a porcelain bird with a cracked wing, a jar of buttons, a single roller skate, a brass clock that had stopped at 3:17.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Painted the Sky Blue Twice
Story In the town of Alder’s Hollow, the sky was always perfect. Not in the way big cities claimed theirs was perfect after a storm, but truly perfect—endless blue, soft clouds, the kind of backdrop you’d expect in a painting rather than in life.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Whispers of a New Dawn
The town of Interlaken in Switzerland was like a postcard—snow-covered mountains, crystal-blue lakes, and streets that smelled of fresh bread in the morning. But for Zayan and Aisha, beauty was not enough. They were young, in love, and holding onto dreams that felt both close and far away.
By EchoPointabout a year ago in Fiction
The Ghost and the Hack
Thomas Mcoy, no second C, is a name you’ve probably never seen. Maybe you’ve spotted “Tommy M.” buried in the acknowledgments of a bestseller or scrawled on a Starbucks cup while he tapped away on a Chromebook in a corner booth. But you won’t find his name on a book cover.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Fiction