Love

The Fading Colors of My Canvas
So smooth, so taut, the stretched canvas wore an air of inviting all color and creativity one could pour onto it, pure and untouched, full of promise of something great, fabulous to be born. The magnum opus, the reflection of life that I so longed to live—my dreams in colors spoke volumes of ambition, love, passion, with each strike bold and virile.
By Young Dreamer2 years ago in Fiction
Danielle plans for Fig's birthday
For my 40th birthday, Fig went all out and made my day really wonderful. She had gotten me my favorite cake: chocolate gnosh. She had reserved a table at my favorite restaurant: Red Lobster, where she decorated it with balloons and my favorite flowers: tulips. She even got one of her musician friends to bring his guitar and serenade me. It was so incredible I was almost embarrassed. Well, I know that 33 isn't like the typical big numbers like 16, 21, 30, 40, 50, etcetera, but I'm going to act like it is anyway. I can't wait another 7 years for her to turn 40 before I make her feel as special and loved as she made me feel last year.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Fiction
The Final Letter
The old manor was surrounded by deserted fields as the sun had set. The shadows were long and dark. Dust and recollections of a time when the house had been a hive of life, laughing, and love permeated the disintegrating walls.
By MD. RAFIQUL ISLAM MURAD 2 years ago in Fiction
The Language of the Heart
The city was alive with lights, and the hum of evening traffic flowed like a river through its veins. Cars honked, conversations buzzed from open-air cafes, and neon signs flickered into the night. Yet amid all the noise and motion, Maya felt utterly alone. She walked through the crowded streets of New York, lost in her thoughts, the chaotic beauty of the city a distant blur. Her headphones pumped soft music into her ears, but it was nothing more than a distraction from the ache she carried inside.
By Oluseyi Sogaolu2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Party
The day I met Emma started like any other, but then again, my days always start the same way: a repetitive cycle of mundanity marred by the occasional oddity. This time, however, the oddity was Emma herself. I remember vividly how she appeared in the café like a burst of sunlight through a thick, gray fog.
By Eladeo Mallett2 years ago in Fiction
Liam's Ascent
In a small, weather-beaten town nestled between rolling hills and dense forests, lived a boy named Liam. The town, with its cracked sidewalks and rusting fences, seemed to be perpetually shrouded in a haze of gray. The people there spoke in murmurs, their voices blending with the wind that whispered through the empty streets.
By Someone2 years ago in Fiction
Crazy Husband. AI-Generated.
Sophia had always prided herself on being an attentive and loving wife. She married David seven years ago, and together they built a seemingly perfect life. Their home was beautiful, their careers were successful, and their social circles envied the way they appeared to complement each other in every way. David was charismatic, charming, and seemingly devoted. But behind his flawless façade, there was a side of him that Sophia would have never imagined.
By Stowey Don Allen2 years ago in Fiction
Hydra and Ruudi
Knowledge is the shrouded firefly in the abyss of the night. Her boots trace the mist of her name in the kneaded soil. Following her shape of her steps. Hoping but a breath from her. Hoping that her tongue doesn't pierce her like the arrow that wounded Hydra's heart from the raging village. An enflamed Imam, privy to the secret meetings in the Wu'thu room, his daughter Ruudi, took too long to perform. Hydra like then was tracing her valleys in the sand and found zum-zum. Except now, she is tracing her footsteps to forgotten whispers under the stars. Their hungry lips breaking fast with a blissful kiss. Distant memories. She remembered when her mother and her went to Ruudi's arranged engagement to a doctor and noble. "Look up Ruudi! Show your face!" family said as Hydra watched them shift and adjust her like a ragdoll. Casual pats on the very senior fiancé's back congratulating him. This, Hydra could not bare. Fury burned a hole in her chest. Seasoning in the longing to sever him from nape to member. Food came and music filled the room with shoulder shaking aunties and chest bumping uncles. All complicit. Ruudi approached a now leaving Hydra in the sea of families. "Dance with me."
By Set Zek2 years ago in Fiction
The Mysterious Boat
Under the faint glow of the moon, a lake shimmered like glass on the outskirts of a peaceful village shrouded in fog. It was seldom visited by the villagers, especially after dark. They talked about weird things happening on the lake, like the sound of a boat appearing and then vanishes.
By MD. RAFIQUL ISLAM MURAD 2 years ago in Fiction
PUSH AND SHOVE
PUSH AND SHOVE It just rang, and rang, and rang, much to Craig`s annoyance as all he wanted to do was eat his sandwich in peace. Eventually, though, he picks it up and looks at the screen and `Jayne` could be clearly seen. “Alright, alright, heard you the first ten times you phoned” he says through an exasperated sigh as dressed only in a T-Shirt and shorts, leaves the kitchen and his mobile on the table, and answers the front door.
By Paul Westlake2 years ago in Fiction
The Icy Touch
Within the foggy, snow-capped mountains there once was a community that experienced year-round winter. The peasants' lives were entwined into the cycles of the seasons, so they were used to the cold.
By MD. RAFIQUL ISLAM MURAD 2 years ago in Fiction
A final Embrace . Content Warning.
Who knows how many souls are resting in these silent walls? The hustle and bustle and noise here do not disturb them. Countless weak and sick people come here, hoping that they will return from here completely healthy. Because this place is dedicated to their well-being. However, it's not necessary for changes and circumstances to be always in our favor." So some people remain confined to these walls, those rooms, those corridors, or those instruments and vials of medicines. Only their weak and suffering bodies can escape from this place that they hate. When she set out for that cruel place, she brought with her the heaviest burden of life. "Though Steve could take care of himself, the doctor said that if he survived for more than twenty-four hours "it would be a miracle, an extraordinary event perhaps!" So she went there to take care of him. He needed her in the last phase of his life, so she went there to be with him. "He is a 70-year-old man whose lungs are gripped by deadly cancer. Which is continuously shortening the line of his life. And now he is just waiting for death in his last moments. All the hair on his head has fallen off, his eyes are weak and sunken. His skin has turned yellow. He is lying peacefully on his bed. And he is making a strange effort to keep a fake smile on his face. Maybe! This is the only process by which he can entertain himself. " Steve put his head on her lap; he was just listening to the beating of her heart, ignoring all the hustle and bustle outside. They both sat there for hours but there was no conversation between them. After some time Steve's body went limp. His body was now lifeless. Yes, he was dead. With her trembling hands, she separated him from herself and laid him on the bed. She stroked his face for the last time to close his eyes. So that he could sleep comfortably in a deep sleep. His soul could become a part of those souls present here without getting disturbed. Because it feels like he's been lying in bed for years. "Now he should get some exercise and play. And find new friends for himself." There was no emotion on her face, because she was already aware of this impending death. She was not sad at all, she herself wanted Steve to be free from that pain forever. However, she did feel a little sad about losing her youngest and last son. Still, not a single tear fell from her lifeless eyes. She walked back with the help of her bent back and stick, with a painful but sweet smile on her wrinkled face.
By Karan w. 2 years ago in Fiction