Love
The Bench of Second Chances
On the edge of a quiet city park stood an old wooden bench. Faded, cracked, and partially hidden under a tall sycamore tree, it had silently witnessed countless stories—some joyful, some heartbreaking, and some unfinished. But the story that truly gave it meaning began one chilly autumn afternoon.
By NIAZ Muhammadabout a year ago in Fiction
Ever Bound
It was my first day at a new school. I had been unhappy and bullied at the public school. My cousin went to a private school, and he talked me into joining him there. As I walked inside I saw my cousin with a group of boys a lot older than me. My cousin was a senior, so I assumed his friends were too. I pulled my bag up higher on my shoulder and headed that way, because I didn’t know anyone else. The room was small, there were only about fifty students in the entire school. My cousin saw me and waved, then waved me toward them. I waved back. The guy right beside of him stared at me, he had long black hair and wore jeans and a black band shirt. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. My breathing halted for a second, but I shook it off and kept moving.
By Raine Fielderabout a year ago in Fiction
A Stranger Who Changed Everything
A Stranger Who Changed Everything I don’t remember her name. I don’t even know if she gave it. But I remember her face — the kind that could’ve belonged to anyone’s grandmother. Soft eyes. Wrinkled skin like creased paper. And a voice that sounded like it had spent a lifetime soothing frightened children.
By Kine Willimesabout a year ago in Fiction
In Defense of the Quiet Ones
In Defense of the Quiet Ones Not all heroes arrive with grand entrances. Some slip into a room like a change in the weather — unnoticed at first, but impossible to ignore once you realize how they’ve shifted everything. This is a story for them, the quiet ones.
By Kine Willimesabout a year ago in Fiction
A man and his two wives
There once was a man who saw a beautiful woman sitting in a chair reading a book. Unable to take his eyes off of her he sat down in the chair across from her, then he stood up and walked away. He didn’t want to stare at her or interrupt her because that is considered to be rude. But he felt such a strong need to talk to her that he couldn’t help but sit down in the chair across from her once again. It wasn’t long before she looked up from her book and over at him. The man smiled at her and said hi. Shyly she smiled back and said hi before going back to the book she was reading. Or pretending to be reading. She had felt him looking at her and walking towards her from the very start. She felt a strong pull towards talking to him, and could not focus her attention on reading, but he got up and left right away. She wondered if she should get up and follow him, but why? As she sat there thinking about him, she held the book as if she were still reading, then she felt him walking back her way. The sound of a bell over the intercom informed the buildings guests that whatever they were waiting for was about to begin, so they both got up and went their own way. Later that day they both saw each other standing in the patio outside the building. They immediately walked over to each other and introduced themselves. They spent time getting to know each other every day for the next two weeks. Then one day another man hoping to steal the woman’s attention away told him that she was his girlfriend and that they planned to marry so he became sad and dissappeared from the woman’s life. Three months later the same woman was walking to the bus stop when she turned down the wrong block. She stood at the corner trying to decide whether to turn left onto a different street or to keep going straight on the one she was on when the man walked out of the building across the street. He was just about to end his life when he decided to step outside to get a breath of fresh air before he did it. All he saw was her standing on the corner with the suns light shining down on her. Both of their eyes locked on each others at the same time, hearts filled with joy, they ran towards each other. He wrapped his arms around her and lifting her into the air the two of them spun around in circles. From that moment on they were inseparable. They were partners in everything, which wasn’t always easy. Especially since the Man was a floor installer. As his partner/ assistant the woman had to carry heavy rolls of carpet on her shoulders. Not just the new carpet, but the old too. Sometimes the carpet belonged to people who had pets that weren’t house trained. The carpet would smell strongly of urine and while carrying it, the carpet often leaned against her hair. The worst part, was that she couldn’t jump in the shower immediately afterwards, they still had to install the new carpet and that could take hours. Still, she did it all by his side without complaining. They both worked hard, and customers loved the work they did, but they struggled to pay their rent. They lived off the coast of California where the cost of rent ranked top 3 highest in the country. If that wasn’t difficult enough, the Man had two children from a previous marriage, and over half his check went to taxes and child support. The remainder of the check would often be needed for materials and tools on the next job. Without that, there would be no next job. Sometimes they didn’t get paid for their work. Even though the customer was happy, the carpet store owner was not. The Man had many connections in the flooring business, and could get anything floor, and cabinet related for a really low price and have it shipped in a matter of days. The customers would always bring their complaints to the man, who was working in their house, and he would give them solutions to their problems. Normally that would be considered great customer service which the customer would brag to their family and friends about, and that would lead to more customers. But they did not live in a normal city. They lived in one of the most expensive places in the world. Honesty and integrity were not valued as much there as money was. The customers were not happy about their purchases, because the owner of the company pushed whatever product he had in his shop on them. He didn’t give them options. And those products were marked up greatly. They were paying hundreds of dollars for products that they didn’t want while the man offered to get them exactly what they had asked the shop owner for the whole time, for under a hundred, sometimes way under a hundred. They would complain to the owner upset that he had told them that it was impossible to get the product they wanted when they obviously could, and the owner in turn would tell the man that the customer complained about the man’s installation work and that he had to send someone to their house to redo it, therefore he would not pay the man for his work. The money that the man spent on tools and materials was not reimbursed. The money lost did not get reimbursed, deducted, or credited by taxes or child support either. They did not have the woman’s check to rely on because the whole amount earned from the job went on one check. She was not given her own paycheck and the man never paid her any money for any of the work that she did. They never had enough money left over to pay the rent, all the bills, and be able to buy enough groceries for the week. In order to survive they had to get government aid to cover the cost of their food, and often needed to stay with family and friends. In order to get government aid, they had to tell them that they were not working otherwise they would have made too much to get it. Eventually they ended up getting charged with welfare fraud, but it was necessary, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to eat. Whenever they did have a little money left over, the man would spend it on his children. He would buy them clothes and school supplies and send it to them. He would moneygram 200 dollars every chance that he got to the children’s Mother, so she could get them the things that she said they needed. None of that was ever reported to child support or deducted from the amount he was ordered to pay. He didn’t mind, it benefited his children. The Woman didn’t have a problem with him providing for his children’s needs with the money she helped earn, but there were things about the situation that bothered her. She didn’t like the fact that the woman always complained that she was not given enough money. Even though he gave more than he was ordered to give her, she still took him to court every couple of months to have his income evaluated to see if she could get more from him. Even though she got half his check and more, she told the children that it was his fault that they couldn’t afford anything because he didn’t give her enough money. She spread rumors about him being a lowlife that didn’t pay his child support every time her child support check came in late. She didn’t correct that rumor when she did recieve it either. None of the child support went towards the children’s needs. She lived for free in a studio apartment provided for her by the homeless shelter. She slept on a cot while his two children shared a bunk bed with her toddler in the same room next to their Mother. All the money that she got from him went into a savings account to buy a house for herself, which she was able to do when the child support ended. She kept the children in the shelter assisted apartment their whole childhood. Even though she complained that she didn’t have enough money, she refused to get a job, stating that God didn’t want her to work. Although the Man paid the child support as ordered, she refused to allow him the visitation that was ordered. He would call everyday and ask to speak to the children, and she would act like he was calling to talk to her and make small talk with him for an hour and then tell him that he can’t talk to the kids because they went to bed 15 minute ago. He would write them everyday, but she wouldn’t give them their mail. When he sent them Christmas presents, she would write that they were from Santa and not tell them that he sent them anything. Occasionally she would agree to allow him to have a visit with the children, which meant that he needed to fly from California to Georgia to see them, and he would not leave the Woman at home. He insisted that she go, even though she would beg to be left at home. His visits were every other weekend from Friday night to Sunday night. She would make them wait at the agreed meeting place for over an hour past the agreed time because they stopped to get some food somewhere or because she made the kids eye appointments on that day, or because she had things to do she would say, meanwhile she would call the cops on him if he was 5 minutes late bringing them back home. Every visit she would send them with nothing, and he would send them back with new clothes, new suitcases, new toothbrush, which he would never see again. All of these things upset the woman quite a bit. She worked hard, got covered in nasty urine soaked carpet, had to worry about having a roof over her head and food to eat, and the money she should have earned went to the children’s Mother’s saving account instead of being paid to her, it didn’t even go towards the children’s care, and the children’s Mother behaved so disrespectfully toward the Man still. But what was worse, was the way the children treated her. Their Mother painted them a story of love between her and their dad, but they could not be together because of the woman. She blamed the woman for keeping their dad from them. Ultimately, it was the woman who got blamed for taking all their dads money, leaving them too poor to afford anything. So the children hated the woman who sacrificed so much for them.
By Wendy Hewettabout a year ago in Fiction
Where the Waves Remember Us. AI-Generated.
Some loves are not lost—just carried away. The sea did not keep time as humans did. But he did. Every year on the same day—August 17th—he returned to the shoreline where the cliffs curled like question marks and the wind never remembered to rest.
By Ahmet Kıvanç Demirkıranabout a year ago in Fiction
The Voice I Never Heard Again
It wasn’t a loud goodbye. In fact, it wasn’t a goodbye at all. I remember the last time I heard her voice. It wasn’t anything special—just a small laugh, soft and kind, like she always had. She was telling me about a new book she found, something about stars and letters that never got sent. “You’d love it,” she said. And I said I’d call her back. But I didn’t. I got busy. Life moved like it always does—too fast, too loud, too careless. And just like that, her voice faded into the noise of everything else. --- The next time I picked up my phone to call her, it rang once. Then twice. Then it stopped. That was the day she didn’t answer. And the day after that, she couldn’t. --- They told me it was sudden. That she didn’t feel anything. That she went peacefully. All those words people say when they’re trying to cover the silence with something easier to hear. But none of it mattered. Because all I could think about was the last thing she said. And the last thing I didn’t. --- I play her voice messages sometimes. Not often—just when it gets too quiet, and I need to remember how soft her words were. How she always said my name like it was something important. Like I mattered. There’s this one message where she just says, “Let me know when you get home.” It plays in my head when I walk through my door now. I always whisper, “I’m home,” back to the air. --- I wish I could remember more. The sound of her laugh when she was really laughing—not just being polite. The way her voice cracked when she was tired. How she whispered prayers before bed. All those little pieces of sound that made her… her. Now, all I have are memories wrapped in silence. --- I never got to say thank you. Or I’m sorry. Or I love you one more time. Or even goodbye. That’s the part that hurts the most. Not the loss. Not the grief. But the quiet. --- You never think the last time will be the last. You think there’s always another call. Another visit. Another morning. But sometimes, life doesn’t wait for your schedule. And sometimes, people disappear before you’re ready to let go. --- If I could hear her voice one more time, I wouldn’t ask for anything big. Not a deep talk. Not even a full sentence. Just my name. Just once. Like she used to say it—gently. Warmly. Like I was her whole world, even if I didn’t always deserve it. --- They say people live on in memories. That might be true. But memories are quiet. And I miss the sound of her.
By Hazrat Usman Usmanabout a year ago in Fiction
How To Disappear: Part Two
Part One: - “Jayce, you’re being ridiculous.” Jayce doesn’t make excuses. It’s starting to become exhausting to do so. He doesn’t tell his mother about anything that happened yesterday, or today. He doesn’t mention the cigarette he smoked by the lake, or the way the fish glittered under the gleaming sun.
By angela hepworthabout a year ago in Fiction
