Love

The Puzzle of Us
Aisha and Karan had always been drawn to each other’s minds, their connection a dance of wit and passion. Their love seemed as flawless as the puzzles they adored solving together. They spent countless evenings hunched over intricate designs, lost in the world of pieces that fit together seamlessly.
By siddharth parab2 years ago in Fiction
The Midnight Rose
With love and mystery some mingled, that is the world that carries hidden truth for years— a forbidden love under a crimson veil. Such a strong love against all odds, but it was never meant for survival.
By Lina Khan2 years ago in Fiction
Aye Aye!. Content Warning.
Many vessels on the seas of 1710 refused women on account of 'lack of strength' or perhaps a reluctance to carry 'unnecessary temptresses'. One vessel refused these rules. Aboard the Hydra, men and women worked enclosed by lumbers of freedom.
By ThatWriterWoman2 years ago in Fiction
A Stolen Day II
In the following period, everything seemed to remain as it was before, except for the boy becoming increasingly quiet. One night, after work, he offered to accompany the girl on a walk because several muggings had recently occurred in the area, making it unsafe. The long, silent walk felt awkward, so the boy decided to start a conversation. This time, he didn't talk about his past but instead shared a small story.
By watch see2 years ago in Fiction
Father is a Unique character chapter 3
FATHER IS A UNIQUE CHARACTER: WHO RAISING HIS MYSTERIOUS CHILD CHAPTER 3 The father gently said to his son (holding back his laughter) "Are you still going to listen to a story today? 'Of course, father, 'said Abraham, as if he did not feel tired at all. Abraham's answer made his father think deeply for a few moments, he was so busy working today that he had not woven a single story in his mind today. He remained silent for a while. Then Abraham said, "What story are you going to tell today, Father? Tell me a scary story today. "But first you promise me that you will not ask me more questions while listening to the story. "Okay, Dad," Abraham replied after a bit of thought. Because he would ask his father any question at any time. That is, as soon as a question arose in his mind, he would immediately start looking for its answer. And he almost always got the answer from his father. But even his father could not always calm his curiosity. He didn't know the answer to any of those questions. He did not leave his pursuit by giving any such answer, but he always inspired his son to find a solution to that question. Well! Dad begins tonight's story... One night, an elderly man was sleeping alone in a house on the edge of his village. He was a decent and understanding man, but fear often haunted him on nights of loneliness. Near his house there was an old cemetery. That tomb must have been some seven to eight years old. which is still present here today. As usual, Abraham asked his father, "Whose tomb was it?" Then his father said that it was his son's grave! He died about eight years ago. "How did he die? Abraham asked again. So what happened was that both father and son were in a very miserable situation financially. He could barely afford two square meals. And one day, in a desperate attempt to get food, his son planned to burgle his neighbor's house. But his only intention was to steal food. But he was arrested. And all the people of the village together punished him for this act and gave him death. At that time, the only punishment was death. Be it small or big. Well! Now the decision had been made, he was to be hanged the next morning. And he was publicly hanged the next day on a branch of an old banyan tree in front of all the villagers. And shortly after that, he died. And the old man buried his son near his house. However, the elderly man never believed that his son had stolen his neighbour's house. And now whenever he slept alone in his room at night, he sometimes wondered what might have happened to his son that day.Why would his son do such a thing? He knew the punishment. But now time passed and the age of that old man was also increasing with time. This was making it difficult for them to work. And the problem was getting worse by the day. One night, the old man heard a roar from outside his room. They got up and decided to open the door to look. Slowly they moved towards the door and decided to open it. When they were ready to open the door, they felt a strange smell. They slowly open the door. There was a shadow in the deep darkness in front of them, from which that fragrance was coming. The old man looked at him and was surprised. Because that shadow looked like his dead son. They were slowly approaching the shadow, when a voice came, "How are you, Father? As soon as the old man heard the sound, he got scared and retreated. He locked the door and went back to his room. But he was in her room. And seeing all this, the old man became even more frightened. His hands and legs started to shake. You didn't answer my question. But this time the old man mustered a little courage and said, "I am not well at all, son," and this is the reality. He knew it was his son's dead body. I'm going to have to pay for what you did eight years ago, son. Why'd you do that? "Hunger destroys a man's body as well as his ability to think. Now his father did not feel the slightest fear of that shadow. Then Abraham's father paused for a moment to check on his son to see if he had fallen asleep. But Abraham was still awake and listening intently to the story. He was so lost in the story that there was no longer any question in his mind. And when his father saw Abraham, all he said was, "Go on, my father is listening." And he goes on and on, "Then the voice came again, now you don't need to be sad anymore, Dad," I have come here to receive you. And having said this, the shadow disappeared somewhere. But there was no movement in the elderly man's residence for several days after that day. Due to this, the villagers were in fear. Then some of the villagers decided to go to the old man's residence. And when they all went to their house, they started smelling inside the house. And when they broke the door of the house and entered the house, their breaths began to swell. Because they were smelling very bad "and when they all went to the bed of the old man, they saw that the old man was dead. And there was a terrible smell coming from his body. From that, he estimated that the elderly man would have died about six-seven days ago. "Or maybe even earlier. The condition of the elderly man was critical. His mouth was as wide open as it could be, and he had probably urinated and defecated in bed. Well, All the people of the village together did the last rites of the old man and buried him near the grave of his son. And the villagers believed that he might have died due to starvation for a long time. But no one knew what the truth was. And thus the last page of the last chapter of the lives of the two fathers and sons had been completed. Now there was not a word left to add to the book of his life. He played his role. And now he had also become a part of those countless heroes who had taken leave from here after playing their role in the world. And that's the end of today's story “father said. If you have not read the last two chapters of the story, then I appeal to you to read them also, so that you can understand the whole story. Please give your feedback about the story wait for the next chapter Writen by sk prihar
By Karan w. 2 years ago in Fiction
Reflecting Ride Home
Outside the bitter frigid air resided surrounding puffy fluffy clouds, creating a dream like setting, distributing a unique message sent from the heavens. Independent athletic model leader Milan peered into space, observing the blue and white canvas credentialing a yellow blazing spotlight, brightening the surroundings.
By Marc OBrien2 years ago in Fiction
Mementos. Runner-up in L*pogram Challenge. Top Story - August 2024. Content Warning.
She had always been the type of person to lose stuff. House keys, sunglasses, purses - none were ever safe from sudden, often permanent, departures.
By J. R. Lowe2 years ago in Fiction
Polly's Freedom. Content Warning.
She ran her hand over the sateen layers of the casket to touch her grandfather’s cold hand. Harold, aged and worn, looked serene on the padded headrest. He’s really dead, her breath released, and her shoulders relaxed. The worst was over. He was gone. There was only one last act to perform for poor old Harold, she sneered to herself.
By S.J. Frederick2 years ago in Fiction
The Echo of Silence
You knew it was coming long before the words were spoken. There was a quiet, creeping stillness in the house that had grown louder with every passing day. The conversations had become brief, clipped—just enough to get by without really saying anything. The space between you, once filled with laughter and shared secrets, had stretched and stretched until it felt like you were living on opposite sides of an invisible chasm.
By Subhasri Devaraj2 years ago in Fiction
Warmth of the Snow
"Pretty!", Jonathon remarked as he turned from Sandy to look out onto snow-covered grounds of the hotel. They had been forced to stay together after all transport had been cancelled out of town. "Pretty vacant..." Sandy responded, full of sarcasm.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
The Evolution of the Heart
If there comes a day when that which causes your heart to beat can no longer move you, that which makes you angry can no longer make you angry, that which makes you sad can no longer make you cry, then you will know what this time and this life have given you and what are you doing for it?
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 years ago in Fiction
The Summer of Changes. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Emma spent every summer at her grandmother's house in the small town of Willow Creek. This summer, however, felt different. She was sixteen now, and the world seemed to buzz with new possibilities and uncertainties. The lush green of the trees and the gentle babbling of the creek promised adventure, but there was something else—an undercurrent of change that Emma couldn’t quite place. On the first day of summer break, Emma's grandmother, a wise and kind woman with a sparkle in her eye, handed her an old leather-bound journal with a knowing smile. "This was mine when I was your age," she said. "It might help you navigate some of the questions you're wrestling with." Curious, Emma flipped through the yellowed pages and found stories of her grandmother's adventures, dreams, and fears as a teenager. Tales of exploring the woods, secret crushes, and the excitement of finding one's place in the world filled the journal. Inspired, Emma decided to use the journal to document her own summer journey. The next day, Emma rode her bicycle to the edge of town, where the fields stretched out in golden waves. She felt the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. As she pedaled along the dusty path, she thought about her grandmother's stories and wondered what her own would be. That afternoon, she stumbled upon a group of local teens playing soccer in a nearby field. One of them, a boy named Alex, waved her over. "Wanna join?" he asked, his grin wide and welcoming. Emma hesitated for a moment, then nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves. As they played, Emma found herself laughing and cheering with the others, her initial shyness fading away. Alex was friendly and patient, offering tips and encouragement as they played. After the game, as they sat in the grass catching their breath, Emma felt a sense of belonging she hadn't expected. Over the following weeks, Emma spent more time with Alex and his friends. They explored the town together, visiting the old library, hiking through the woods, and sharing stories by the campfire at night. Emma found herself opening up, sharing her thoughts and dreams, and listening to theirs in return. One evening, as they sat by the creek, Emma told Alex about her grandmother's journal. She shared some of the stories she had read and how they inspired her to create her own. Alex listened intently, nodding in understanding. "It's amazing to see how people before us navigated life, isn't it?" he said. "It makes our own journey feel connected to something bigger." Emma nodded, feeling a profound sense of connection to her grandmother and the stories that spanned generations. That night, she wrote in the journal, capturing the day's adventures and her reflections on friendship, growth, and the passage of time. As the summer days slipped by, Emma grew more confident and self-assured. She learned to embrace change and uncertainty, realizing that they were essential parts of life's journey. She cherished the friendships she had formed and the memories they had created together. On the last day of summer, Emma sat with her grandmother on the porch, the journal resting in her lap. "Thank you for sharing this with me," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "It helped me understand more about myself and the world around me." Her grandmother smiled, her eyes twinkling with pride. "I'm glad it helped, Emma. Remember, life is a series of stories waiting to be told. Keep writing yours." As Emma packed her bags for the return home, she felt a mix of sadness and excitement. She knew she was leaving behind a summer filled with growth and discovery, but she also understood that the lessons she'd learned would stay with her as she continued her journey. With the journal tucked safely in her suitcase, Emma looked back at the house one last time. The summer had changed her, but she was ready to embrace the future, knowing that life, like the journal, was a canvas for her to fill with stories of her own making.
By Momodou Y.A Jallow2 years ago in Fiction