Love
A body on the bridge . Top Story - September 2024. Content Warning.
Lexi chose to come to the bridge where the body parts were found. Her coming was not connected to that poor soul, neither was she concerned about who did it and why. She was tired of her life and all the expectations that hung over her head.
By Caitlin Charlton2 years ago in Fiction
The last memory
Anna stood in the overgrown garden, the sun setting behind her, casting long shadows over the wildflowers and ivy. It had been years since she last visited her grandmother’s estate, a place filled with memories she could no longer fully grasp. The garden, once her playground, was now a tangle of nature reclaiming its space. The once orderly paths were barely visible, and the bench where her grandmother used to sit was almost hidden by the creeping vines. The house had been sold long ago, but the garden remained untouched, a relic of a time she could barely remember. The doctors had called it early-onset memory loss, a condition that had claimed her grandmother and now seemed to be taking hold of Anna herself. But Anna always felt it was more than that—as if her memories were not just fading but had been taken from her. As she wandered deeper into the garden, something caught her eye—a small, ornate box, partially buried under a blanket of leaves. She knelt down, brushing away the debris. The box was intricately carved, its surface worn with age, but it seemed familiar, though she couldn’t remember why. With trembling hands, she opened it. Inside, there was a vial filled with a shimmering, golden liquid that seemed to glow faintly in the dimming light. Beneath the vial was a folded note, yellowed with time. Anna carefully unfolded it, her heart skipping a beat as she recognized her grandmother’s handwriting. "My dearest Anna," "If you’ve found this, my time has passed, and it is up to you to decide what comes next. This vial holds my last memory, one I couldn’t bear to keep with me any longer. But be warned, once you see it, you cannot unsee it. Some memories are meant to fade. If you choose to remember, know that you will carry the weight of it forever. The choice is yours.”* Anna’s breath caught in her throat. Her grandmother had always been a strong, loving woman, full of warmth and wisdom. What could have been so terrible that she chose to erase it from her mind? What could she have hidden away so deeply that it had to be left in this forgotten garden? She sat down on the weathered bench, the vial warm in her hand. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the garden was bathed in twilight. The air was cool, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around her. The decision weighed heavily on her. She could simply close the box, bury it again, and let the memory remain lost forever. Or she could open the vial and reclaim what had been taken from her, no matter how painful it might be. With a deep breath, Anna uncorked the vial. The golden liquid began to evaporate, turning into a fine mist that swirled around her. She inhaled, and suddenly, the world shifted. She was no longer in the garden but in her grandmother’s kitchen, the air thick with the scent of pine and spices. It was winter; she could see the frost on the windows. Her grandmother stood at the counter, her face lined with worry. A man stood in the doorway—tall, dark-haired, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and desperation. The scene played out quickly, but Anna felt every emotion as if it were happening to her. The man was her father, the father she had been told died when she was just a baby. But now she saw the truth—he hadn’t died in an accident. He had come back one last time, desperate and afraid, begging her grandmother for help. When she refused, there had been a struggle. A knife flashed. And then… darkness. The memory faded, leaving Anna breathless and shaken. She now understood why her grandmother had chosen to forget—why she had hidden this away. The truth was painful, unbearable. But now, it was Anna’s burden to carry. She sat on the bench, tears streaming down her face, the empty vial clutched in her hand. The garden was silent around her, the night settling in. She felt the weight of the memory, but also a strange sense of peace. She had finally found the truth, and though it was painful, it was hers to keep. Anna stood, carefully placing the box back where she had found it. She knew she would never forget what she had seen, but she also knew she had the strength to carry it. As she walked away from the garden, she felt a connection to her past she had never known, and with it, the strength to face whatever the future held. ---
By Lerato Ngwenya2 years ago in Fiction
In the Eyes of the Beholder
Every day, I walked through the bustle of my city's streets-a sea of invisible people streaming around me. I alone saw and heard the world, as it was. Sounds of conversation, rustling of footsteps, hum of life-it was all there, yet no one could see me, and I nothing of them. It was like living in a ghost town peopled by invisible spectres.
By The Story Writer2 years ago in Fiction
The Lantern’s Light
In the quaint village of Elmswood, where cobblestone streets wound between ivy-clad cottages, there stood a small, forgotten shop known as “The Lantern’s Light.” It was said that the shop held the power to illuminate the darkest corners of one’s soul. Most villagers dismissed it as a quaint relic of bygone times, but for Eliza, it was a place of solace.
By Vishnu Sharma2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Dance
The old record player crackled to life, filling the room with the soft, nostalgic melody of a long-forgotten waltz. Grace sat in her favorite armchair, her hands trembling slightly as she placed the needle on the vinyl. The sun streamed through the lace curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her, and for a moment, she was young again.
By Vishnu Sharma2 years ago in Fiction
The Last Letter
Maya sat by the window, the soft hum of the city fading into the background as her thoughts wandered. The letter lay in her lap, worn and yellowed with age, yet she couldn't bring herself to open it. It had been five years since she found it tucked away in her grandmother’s old jewelry box, but today, on what would have been her grandmother's 90th birthday, she felt ready.
By Vishnu Sharma2 years ago in Fiction
Shadows of Love (Part 2)
Shodows of Love Part 1 Maya clutched the letter, her hands trembling. The words scrawled on the yellowed paper seemed to blur as she tried to comprehend their meaning. It was as if Anaya had written the letter directly to her, knowing that Maya would one day stand in the very room where her secrets were kept.
By Akash Deep2 years ago in Fiction
