Love

Touch
To feel the touch of silk on your fingers, and the beautiful feel of a purring cat's fur.The delicacy of a butterfly's wings to make you feel you are in a faerie realm.The touch from the fingertips of someone who loves you, that you return and feel the electricity flow through the both of you that you do not want to stop.The feel of linen clothes on a summer day, and the sheets on your bed on a morning when you don't have to get up for work.The fur of a pet that comes to show their love and be close to you.The touch of a beautiful flower petal, releasing the aroma and scent that raises your spirit, with the natural perfume.Think of every beautiful touch in your life, and let them all touch your soul.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
"On the day the queen died, the river ran backward!"
Author: Dream Books Sanjeevi "Spring River" is a sacred site where people share sorrows and find peace of mind in the shadow of love.
By Sanjeevi Kandasamy2 years ago in Fiction
The Fall of Styx
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. The souls of Tartarus cheered in ecstasy as the forces holding them prisoner died down, and those of Elysium begged for aid as they were pulled forth ‘gainst their will. The true horror was Asphodel, as their typical moaning, groaning, and unenthused, hushed voices rose in a symphony of distress, uprooted from their peacefully average days. Each soul, regardless of their prior lodgings, howled in agony as they reached the last remaining shreds of barrier that coated the river’s surface and made up the gates of the Underworld. It clawed at them, wrestling to hold onto its prisoners as it was tasked to.
By Lizzy Rose2 years ago in Fiction
One Terrible Day
It was the kind of morning that seemed to promise nothing but ordinary routine, but the sun hadn't even fully risen when things began to unravel for Tara. She woke to the loud ring of her phone, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet of her room. She glanced at the screen and saw her brother's name flash across it. She answered with a groggy hello, expecting a simple conversation. "Mom’s collapsed. I’m at the hospital. You need to come, now." The words hung in the air, sharp and unwelcome. Tara’s heart skipped a beat. Her mother had been unwell for some time, but she hadn’t expected this. She quickly threw on clothes, barely thinking as panic set in. The car ride to the hospital was a blur. The morning traffic was worse than usual, and every second felt like an eternity. Tara could hardly keep her mind focused. Her thoughts bounced between memories of her mother’s smile, her warm voice, and the crushing fear of not knowing what was happening. When Tara finally reached the hospital, she rushed inside, finding her brother pacing in the waiting area. His face was ashen, and his eyes were wide with concern. Without a word, he pulled her into a tight hug. For a moment, Tara let herself fall into the comfort of his arms, before the harsh reality of the situation hit her again. "What happened?" Tara managed to whisper. "We don’t know. They said it was a stroke," her brother said, his voice barely above a whisper. "They’re trying to stabilize her." Tara’s legs felt like jelly as she sank into a nearby chair. Her mind raced, trying to understand. Her mother, a strong woman who had raised them single-handedly, had always seemed invincible. How could this happen to her? Hours passed, and Tara sat there, hardly noticing the time slipping by. The sterile smell of the hospital clung to her clothes, the constant beeping of machines echoing in her ears. Her brother had gone in to see their mother several times, but no new information came. With every minute, her hope dwindled just a little bit more. Finally, the doctor emerged. His face was solemn, his steps slow. Tara’s breath caught in her throat as she stood up. "How is she?" Tara asked, her voice trembling with fear. The doctor hesitated, his eyes looking at her with pity. "Your mother’s condition is critical. We’re doing everything we can, but the stroke has caused severe damage. We can’t predict the outcome yet." The words hit like a physical blow. Tara’s knees buckled, and she gripped the back of a chair for support. Her brother’s arms were around her once more, but it didn’t make the words any less real. They were losing her. They hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye. The rest of the day passed in a haze. Tara could hardly remember the walk to her mother’s room or the quiet moments she spent sitting by her side. The machines kept beeping, a constant reminder of how fragile life truly was. She held her mother’s hand, willing her to wake up, to speak, to give her one last smile. But the room was silent, except for the hum of the machines that kept her mother alive, even though it felt like the woman inside them was already gone. As evening fell, Tara finally left her mother’s side. The sun was setting, and the world outside seemed to move on as if nothing had changed. The familiar streets of the city looked the same, the shops open, the cars honking, people going about their lives. It felt wrong. How could everything be normal when her world was falling apart? Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Tara reluctantly pulled it out, her fingers shaking. It was a message from her boss, asking for an update on the project she’d been working on. Tara stared at the screen for a moment, her thoughts disconnected, before she typed a quick response, promising to send the necessary updates soon. The truth was, she didn’t care about the project anymore. She didn’t care about anything except her mother. But even as she sat in her car, overwhelmed with grief and disbelief, Tara knew that life, in all its chaos and unpredictability, would continue whether she was ready for it or not. And somehow, she'd have to face it—one terrible day at a time.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Fiction
A Patchwork of Hope
Lily, a girl with a heart as pure as snow, had a secret. A secret that marked her skin with a unique pattern, a patchwork of white against her olive complexion. Vitiligo, a condition that had been her constant companion since childhood.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
See the world through touch
Alex had always been a man of vision. As a young boy, he'd spent countless hours lost in the world of art, his fingers tracing the lines of masterpieces and his imagination soaring beyond the canvas. But fate, with a cruel twist, had a different plan. A sudden accident left him with a scarred eye, a constant reminder of the fragility of perfection.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Sunset Cove
The salty air of Sunset Cove whispered tales of bygone days, a stark contrast to the silence echoing in my newly retired life. My name is Rohan, and the structured world of marketing meetings had been my reality for decades. Now, adrift in a sea of unstructured time, I found myself drawn to the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Echoes of the Raven
The night my husband drew his last breath, a raven perched itself on the windowsill, its obsidian eyes piercing into my soul. As Jonathan's life slipped away, the raven's haunting caw echoed through the room, a melancholic requiem bidding farewell to the man I loved.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
Shelves of Serendipity
The faint sound of pages turning and whispered conversations filled the air of the university library. It was my sanctuary, a quiet refuge where I could escape the chaos of college life. Nestled between the tall bookshelves and the warm glow of desk lamps, I found solace among the words of great authors and the weight of knowledge.
By Ayushi Mehra2 years ago in Fiction
Chords of Desire
As I stood in front of the vast window in my lavish bedroom, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. I should have felt grateful for my life, filled with luxury and privilege, but a heavy emptiness weighed on my chest. My name is Cassie Sinclair, and I come from a filthy rich family in the heart of the city.
By Ayushi Mehra2 years ago in Fiction
The Orb
I am a prince embarking on a long journey home from battle. It is a cold, dark early morning and I am traveling north on a path through the forest. I am alone and cold and still have a long way to go. My muscles ache and my feet are sore, but I continue on the dark and lonely path.
By Sean Johnson2 years ago in Fiction
The Highway
A long journey traveling home in my car. I am on a desolant two lane highway for a long stretch. In the distance I can see a silhouette of a figure standing on the side of the road. As I approached it, I could tell that it was an old man. I haven't seen another vehicle for miles and I grew concerned for the old man. Is he lost or disoriented, wandering in the middle of nowhere? I thought to myself.
By Sean Johnson2 years ago in Fiction