Love
"Echoes of Eternity"
In the quiet town of Oakridge, nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a curious young girl named Amelia. With eyes wide as the starlit sky above, she spent her days exploring the woods, searching for hidden wonders and untold secrets.
Pragya VermaPublished 3 days ago in FictionThe Arranged Marriage
In a dimly lit bar, the atmosphere was thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses. A man named Timmy found himself captivated by a vision of Claudia. She was perched on a bar stool, radiating joy with sparkling sky-blue eyes and bouncing blonde curls. Holding a strawberry margarita, she spoke animatedly about her impending arranged marriage to Jarrod Worthington.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionA tale of Live and Love
Sara Mitchell cherished simplicity. Growing up in a tranquil household with congenial parents and no siblings to rival, she relished a drama-free existence. As she matured, Sara began to view marriage as a potential disruptor of her contentment, seeing no compelling reason to pursue it.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionUnity in Diversity
In the scorching heat of Old Hometown, a naked body lay motionless, surrounded by a cloud of flies. The red dust, typical of the town's drought season, covered everything. Raymond, the local policeman, stood observing the scene, his brow furrowed.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionLove is blind
Jack reveled in the tranquility of the beach, soaking up the warmth of the sun. He meticulously filled his bucket with sand, getting the water-to-sand ratio just right. Today was going to be the day he built the most impressive sandcastle. His dad had even gifted him a variety of buckets for crafting different shapes and sizes.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionThe Swings
We’ve shared countless laughs, played endless games, and cherished beautiful moments together. As the sun dips below the horizon, I sit quietly on the swing, tracing circles in the dirt with the tip of my tennis shoe.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionA Will to Forgive
Dry leaves danced in the crisp October wind, rustling with a melancholic whisper. The ground was a mosaic of amber, the fallen leaves swirling and twirling in the shifting wind. Although a blanket of gray clouds loomed to the east, the setting sun painted the world in a radiant golden hue from the west. It was as if nature itself couldn't decide between a gloomy evening or a hopeful sunset.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionRomance at the Beach
Ropes of people twisted around the arrivals gate, each person a strand in a human rope. Dolores squinted, standing on tiptoe to scan over the sea of heads.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionThe Bite
She was different today, and it struck me with an almost palpable force. How is it possible to spend years with someone and yet suddenly see them anew? Perhaps we get so caught up in our routines that we forget to truly see the people we love. Her eyebrows seemed more delicate, her eyes weary, and her neck and hands bore the lines of time that I had somehow missed before. She looked older, yet oddly familiar.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionThe Crush
Jerry Ray Carpenter was the star pitcher at his high school—charismatic, popular, and seemingly unattainable. Yet, he harbored a secret crush on Sabrina Brown, the quiet, thoughtful girl who led the debate team, loved biology, and was unapologetically passionate about her faith.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionSilver Lining
"This has been fun, but let me down now," he said, attempting to infuse some levity into the moment. "No," I snapped. "I'm tired of you dodging this conversation." Exhaustion consumed me—not just from this night, but from our entire relationship. The uncertainty of our status, the blurred lines between commitment and casualness, it all weighed on me. I was caught in this limbo of wanting him to commit and fearing the void if he ever walked away.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in FictionLife Stands Still
"Think fast!" The whoosh of air sends my hairs standing on end. An axe whizzes past, embedding itself into the target.
Arshad MecciPublished 3 days ago in Fiction