Love
The Final Stop
Blink and you’ll miss it, she said. It’s more like…Spit and you’ll miss it, he thought. The dust was still thick in the air when she stopped the Jeep in front of what looked like an abandoned train car. He spat out dirt and wiped off the dust in his eyes and hair as he looked around. Abandoned? Yup. Like most of the area around it. He could see that the bush would take over this area one day and he thought that would be a fair deal. There were no other cars in the small lot, but he could see that there had been several abandoned across the road in what looked like a farmer’s field. No livestock or crops there now, but someone’s forgotten garage. And this place…
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Fiction
A Day in the Park That Changed Her Life
It was supposed to be just another Sunday. Anna had no grand plans, no urgent tasks, and no reason to expect anything extraordinary. The city was slow that morning — soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, the air still cool enough to keep the windows open. She had been feeling stuck lately. Not lost exactly, but as if her life had been running on the same loop for months — work, sleep, repeat.
By Habib kingabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lion and the Monkey – A Sierra Leone Friendship
Sierra Leone’s mornings are like no other—mist clinging to the tops of the Loma Mountains, birds waking the forest with their calls, and the smell of rain still lingering from the night before. In the lowland plains, where grasslands meet dense rainforest, the wildlife stirs to life—elephants move like silent giants, antelopes browse among the trees, and somewhere deep within, the roar of a lion rolls through the damp air.
By Saeed Ullah about a year ago in Fiction
Fighting for Life
"You can have it," the man in front of Ryder said, solemnly, resigned to his fate. "You deserve it." Ryder looked at the man's bloodied nose, steadily streaming red mucus, and his lank hair, hanging down over his face. He was poorly dressed and would be referred to as "unkempt" by his mother. Not quite a hobo but not far off. The man would not look him in the eye which was curious as moments before, he had been glaring at Ryder as he'd gripped his shirtfront, his eyes wide, bulging with fury, as he spat his angry, defensive words into Ryder's face.
By Rachel Deemingabout a year ago in Fiction
Ladies’ Man
It was simple enough. "Meet me on Platform 7," he’d said. "You’ll easily spot me, I’ll be wearing a red scarf." I was traveling out of county, on the 10:20 train to York. From there we would explore the city together, have lunch, take in a few sights, the cathedral, the castle, maybe a trip on the river.
By Susi Mooreabout a year ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse Keeper’s Garden
The Lighthouse Keeper’s Garden Lessons Carved by Wind and Sea On the ragged edge of the world, where cliffs met the restless sea, stood the old Breakers’ Light, its stone tower defiant against the wind’s ceaseless song. Its beam sliced through the mist, a quiet promise to ships lost in the dark. At its base, improbably, a garden thrived—wildflowers in defiant bursts of crimson, violet, and gold, rooted in soil that knew only salt and storm. On a stone bench nearby, a journal lay open, its pages worn, holding pressed petals like secrets kept safe.
By Shohel Ranaabout a year ago in Fiction
A Rose at Dusk
A Love Story Woven by the Sea The village of Marinelle was a whisper of a place, tucked between the cliffs and the sea, where time seemed to pause in the glow of dusk. Cobblestone streets wound like old promises, leading to a café called L’Étoile, its ivy-clad walls kissed by the salt of the tide. Every evening, as the sun dipped low, painting the sky in shades of apricot and lavender, the café’s lanterns flickered to life, casting a warmth that felt like an embrace.
By Shohel Ranaabout a year ago in Fiction
