Microfiction
The House That Waited
The House That Waited It had been thirty years since Evelyn had last stepped foot on the porch of the house on Windmere Lane. The gravel crunched beneath her boots the same way it had when she was nine years old, clutching her father’s hand as they left in the dead of night. She’d always believed the memory was distorted by fear and sleep, but now, as her fingers brushed the flaking paint of the porch railing, she realized—some memories didn’t fade. They only waited.
By waseem khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Cat Nights Are Coming
Introduction Cat Nights begin on August 17. This term harks back to the days when people believed in witches. A rather obscure old Irish legend said that a witch could turn herself into a cat eight times, but on the ninth time (August 17), she couldn’t regain her human form. This bit of folklore also gives us the saying, “A cat has nine lives.” Because August is a yowly time for cats, this may have prompted the speculation about witches on the prowl in the first place. Also, nights continue to get longer. Cats, crepuscular creatures, are nocturnal hunters. Their superior night vision means that the nights belong to them.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Tide: A Story Told in Shells
At first glance, the image is simple—serene, even. A ceramic bowl, resting gently on the damp sand, cradles an exquisite collection of seashells. They sit nestled together like quiet thoughts, each one shaped by time and tide. Beyond this peaceful arrangement, the shoreline stretches toward a glowing horizon, golden with the touch of evening light. A lighthouse stands distant and steady, a silent witness to the sea’s ever-shifting moods.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
10 Dates Before Goodbye
Start writing...10 Dates Before Goodbye Zindagi ke aakhri chh mahine, pyaar ke sabse khoobsurat 10 din. --- Date 1: The Diagnosis Hospital ke khidki ke peechay Zoya khadi thi, uske haath mein ek file thi jo uski zindagi ki haqeeqat lekar aayi thi. Stage 4 blood cancer. Doctor ne sirf chh mahine zindagi di thi. Aankhon mein aansuon ke saath Zoya ne apne dil ki baat Ali se chhupate hue poocha, “Kya hum waqt ko rok nahi sakte? Ya phir ise thoda sa thehra nahi sakte?” Ali ne uski taraf dekha, jiska chehra dard se bhara tha, lekin uske labon par ek chhoti si muskurahat thi. Usne apni jeb se ek chhoti si diary nikali, pehla safha khola, aur likha: > “Chalo, hum 10 dates karte hain. Tumhari muskurahat roz dekhni hai, jab tak ho.” Zoya ne uski baat par thoda hansa, phir kaha, “Main marne wali hoon, aur tum dating ka plan bana rahe ho?” Ali ne aankhon mein chamak ke saath jawab diya, “Waqt kam hai, is liye pyaar jaldi karna hoga. Har pal ko jeene ka iraada hai.” --- Date 2: School Wali Bench Agla din tha. Ali ne Zoya ko usi purani bench par le gaya jahan bachpan mein woh school se bhaag kar chup jati thi. Wahan do sandwiches rakhe thay. Zoya ne hairani se poocha, “Yeh kya hai?” Ali ne kaha, “Bachpan ki bhookh kabhi nahi marti. Aur yeh sandwiches tumhari bachpan ki yaadon ke liye hain.” Zoya ki aankhon mein aansu aa gaye, “Aur bachpan ka pyaar? Kya woh bhi zinda hai?” Ali ne has kar kaha, “Woh to tumhare samne zinda hai. Aur main us pyaar ko zinda rakhne aaya hoon.” --- Date 3: Library Mein Khamoshi Wo din Ali ne Zoya ko library le gaya. Wahan ek purani kitaab chhupi thi, jisme usne chhote chhote pyar bhare khat likhe thay. Har safhe par ek yaad, har yaad mein Zoya ka naam tha. Zoya ne poocha, “Yeh sab kab likha?” Ali ne kaha, “Jab tum mujhse door thi, main har din tumhari wapsi ka intezaar karta tha. Har lafz mein mera pyaar chhupa tha.” Zoya ne uske haath thaame aur aankhon mein aansu bhar aaye. --- Date 4: No Filter Photography Ali ne Zoya ki 100 tasveerain khinchein — bina makeup, bina pose, sirf asli hassi aur jazbat ke saath. Zoya ne poocha, “Yeh sab kyun?” Ali ne jawab diya, “Main tumhein waise hi yaad rakhna chahta hoon, jaisi tum ho — hassi wali, thodi roothi hui, kabhi gusse wali, magar hamesha zinda.” --- Date 5: Khamosh Walk Dono ek lambe park ke raaste par chal rahe thay, bina baat kiye. Sirf unke saanson ki awaaz sunai de rahi thi. Zoya ne pehli baar Ali ka haath thaama, “Main tayyar hoon. Har pal jeene ke liye.” Ali ne kaha, “Yeh waqt humara hai, isse hum jeetenge.” --- Date 6: I Love You... In Writing Ali ne Zoya ke liye aik diary banayi thi — 30 pages, har zaban mein “I love you” likha tha. Zoya ne hans ke kaha, “Agar tum chalay gaye to?” Ali ne kaha, “Pyaar kabhi nahi marta, log marte hain, lekin jazbaat kabhi nahi.” --- Date 7: Chupke Se Raqs Ek purane café mein dono ne chupke se Bluetooth speaker lagaya aur bina shor sharabe ke raqs kiya. Zoya ne poocha, “Music kahan hai?” Ali bola, “Jahan tum ho, wahan har sans ek sur hai.” --- Date 8: Hospital Ki Chhat Ali ne Zoya ko hospital ki chhat par le gaya. Andhera tha, lekin sitare chamak rahe thay. Ali ne kaha, “Agar main chala gaya to, har barish mein mujhe dhundhna, har sitaray mein mera chehra dekhna.” Zoya ne uska haath mazbooti se pakda. --- Date 9: Shadi Ka Jhoot Zoya ne hospital staff ke saath mil kar chhoti si shaadi arrange ki — bina papers ke, magar asli pyaar ke saath. Ali ne kaha, “Yeh meri zindagi ki asli deal hai.” Zoya ne kaha, “Aur meri bhi.” --- Date 10: Goodbye Without Tears Aakhri date thi. Ali ne diary ka aakhri page Zoya ke haath mein diya, > “Mujhe yaad mat rakhna, mujhe jeeti rakhna.” Zoya ne usse gale lagaya, aansu rok kar. Ali ne aankhein band ki aur muskuraya. --- Epilogue: Aaj bhi Zoya har saal 10 naye logon ke saath 10 dates karti hai, unhe jeene ki umeed dene ke liye. > Kyun ke Ali ne usse sikhaya tha: “Pyaar zindagi mein nahi hota, pyaar zindagi bana deta hai.”
By Aman Ullahabout a year ago in Fiction
The Quiet Compression. AI-Generated.
You see, the Greys don’t erase planets. They compress them. Into one person. Osmosis isn’t the right word, but it’s close enough. They pour every ounce of being—every scream, every soil microbe, every wrong goodbye—into that final witness. It steeps in the marrow.
By Jesse L Shelleyabout a year ago in Fiction
The Wandering Mind of Willow
In a quiet meadow surrounded by silver birch trees and soft rolling hills, there lived a rabbit named Willow. He was not like the other rabbits who spent their days hopping around collecting food or playing in the sun. Willow was different. He had a habit—some called it strange, others charming—of getting lost in his thoughts.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
Wings of Joy
In a meadow kissed by golden sunlight, nestled between whispering trees and a winding stream, lived a butterfly named Zara. She wasn't just any butterfly — her wings shimmered with the colors of sunrise and sunset, with flecks of silver and blue that sparkled when she flew. But it wasn’t just her beauty that made her special. Zara was known across the valley for something even more wonderful — she loved playing with flowers, all the time, every day.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Fiction
