Short Story
SIR DORAN. Top Story - June 2024.
The fire cracks and spits, offering light and the illusion of solace, but Sir Doran feels no warmth. He sits on a fallen tree and watches the fire as he rests his hands on the pommel of his sword, its blade chipped and worn, more symbolic than functional. Much like Sir Doran himself.
By Aaron Morrison2 years ago in Fiction
THE LABYRINTH OF ECHES. AI-Generated.
The Labyrinth of Echoes Every night, precisely at the stroke of midnight, Emily would drift into a world that felt all too real. The dream always began the same way: she found herself standing at the entrance of a grand, decaying labyrinth. Ancient ivy crept over the towering stone walls, and the air was thick with the scent of moss and forgotten time. The labyrinth stretched out before her, a twisting, turning maze of dark corridors and hidden alcoves, and she knew, with the certainty that only dreams provide, that she had been here many times before.
By ayesha nadeem2 years ago in Fiction
THE INHERITANCE - part eleven
THE INHERITANCE – part eleven ……… Welcome home ++++++++++ Kate Sullivan inherited the house that once belonged to her great-grandmother. The old stone house sat on the edge of a ten-acre plat of land in Aughacasla, Ireland. Many weeks ago, she’d never heard of the small town and now, she owned a piece of it.
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Fiction
A Serendipitous Symphony: The Love Story of Ayamu Uresugi and Aiko Anna
In the clamoring heart of Tokyo, where neon lights painted the evenings and the murmur of the city was a steady orchestra, two spirits were bound to meet. Ayamu Uresugi, a youthful and aggressive draftsman, found comfort in the designs he planned, considering them to be the two his enthusiasm and his getaway from a forlorn past. Aiko Anna, a gifted violin player, emptied her feelings into her music, her songs repeating her fantasies and wants. Unbeknownst to them, their ways were going to cross in a most fortunate manner. Ayamu's life spun around diagrams and high rises. At 28, he had proactively laid down a good foundation for himself as a promising engineer with a splendid future. However, regardless of his expert achievement, a void endured in his heart, a space unfilled by the substantial and steel he so carefully created. His young life in a little town had been forlorn, set apart by the early loss of his folks and a progression of cultivate homes. His main comfort had been his drawings, which moved him to places he yearned to have a place. Aiko Anna's life was an unmistakable difference. Naturally introduced to a group of performers, she had been encircled by songs since birth. Her folks, both eminent musician, had high expectations for her, and she had not frustrated. By 26, she was at that point an acclaimed soloist, her exhibitions moving crowds to tears. Notwithstanding, regardless of her prosperity, she felt caught by the assumptions for her family and the redundant pattern of shows and practices. She longed for something else, something she couldn't exactly characterize. One cold harvest time evening, Ayamu went to a foundation celebration facilitated in one of the structures he had planned. He was not one for get-togethers, but rather his presence was expected as the structure was the primary fascination of the occasion. The feature of the night was a presentation by a musician, Aiko Anna, whose name was enigmatically natural to Ayamu. He had heard her music previously, played in bistros and on the radio, yet he had never seen her perform live. As Aiko played, the room fell quiet. Her violin sang an impactful, tormenting tune that resounded with Ayamu in a manner he had never experienced. Each note appeared to pierce through his painstakingly developed walls, mixing feelings he had long covered. He watched her, entranced, as her music painted a distinctive embroidery of yearning and trust. Maybe her violin strings were winding around together the sections of his heart. After the exhibition, Ayamu felt a mystifying draw to meet her. He found Aiko remaining solitary on the overhang, looking at the cityscape. Gathering his fortitude, he moved toward her, his heart beating in his chest. "Your music was... exceptional," he said delicately, his voice scarcely perceptible over the far off murmur of the city. Aiko went to confront him, her eyes mirroring the city lights. "Much obliged to you," she answered, a sprinkle of trouble in her voice. "I generally trust my music can arrive at somebody's heart." "It did," Ayamu conceded. "It seemed like you were recounting a story. One that I... I could connect with." Aiko grinned, a real, comforting grin that illuminated her face. "Music is its very own language. It addresses our spirits, doesn't it?" That evening denoted the start of a profound association among Ayamu and Aiko. They started to meet routinely, sharing their fantasies, fears, and pasts. Ayamu ended up opening up to Aiko in manners he never had with any other person. Thus, Aiko found in Ayamu a close companion, somebody who comprehended her craving to break liberated from her plated confine. As weeks transformed into months, their bond developed further. Ayamu planned a studio for Aiko, a safe-haven where she could make music liberated from the tensions of her loved ones. Consequently, Aiko made pieces motivated by Ayamu's building plans, her songs mirroring the style and strength of his manifestations. Their romantic tale was not without challenges. They confronted resistance from Aiko's folks, who considered Ayamu to be an interruption from her vocation. Ayamu's own weaknesses likewise surfaced, tormented by fears of insufficiency. However, together, they explored these obstructions, their adoration and shared help assisting them with conquering each obstacle. Ayamu Uresugi and Aiko Anna's romantic tale turned into its very own ensemble, an amicable mix of design and music. They tracked down in one another the lacking parts of their spirits, making a tune that reverberated with the most profound pieces of their creatures. In a city where a huge number of lives met, their fortunate gathering demonstrated that occasionally, in the midst of the disorder, fate had its own lovely plans.
By Dreamscape 2 years ago in Fiction
Mother
"I don't want to!" "But you have to! You can't continue like this!" Moira had had another call. Mother had fallen again. She had been found by the neighbour who had heard her faint calls that morning. Luckily, Moira had had the foresight to give the neighbour her number.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Fiction
The Shadows
The Shadows The ancient house on Hemlock Path sat slouched and brooding, its once fantastic exterior presently a canvas of peeling paint and split windows. Sarah, as of late stranded, took a profound breath and ventured onto the congested yard. The discussion hung overwhelming with the fragrance of rot and something else, a metallic tang that pricked her nostrils.
By Abdul Qayyum2 years ago in Fiction
Love's Melody, Not a Solo
There was once a girl who yearned for a companion who complemented her without having to struggle much. She met a boy and like most girls, she lost control; overdoing everything, including but not limited to being sweet.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 years ago in Fiction
The Labyrinth of Dreams
In the quiet town of Willowbrook, nestled between rolling hills and lush forests, there lived a young woman named Amelia. She had always been fascinated by dreams. From the time she was a child, she found herself drawn to the mysterious landscapes that unfolded in her mind each night. But lately, her dreams had taken a dark turn.
By Samson E. Gifted2 years ago in Fiction
Bruno the Cat: A Tale of Feline Wisdom
In the quaint town of Willowbrook nestled amidst rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a cat named Bruno. Unlike most cats content to roam alleyways or lounge lazily in sunny spots, Bruno was an enigmatic figure, known for his mysterious ways and uncanny ability to bring joy and solace to those he encountered.
By Samson E. Gifted2 years ago in Fiction
I am Jack's tumour. Top Story - June 2024.
I've always been able to See things, as long as I can remember. Small snippets of insight. Flashes I call them. That's what they are. Quick. Sometimes big, sometimes small. Could be what a stranger ate for breakfast, or what your nana said to you before she died. I've always accepted it as part of who I am.
By L.C. Schäfer2 years ago in Fiction
THE INHERITANCE - part ten
THE INHERITANCE – part ten ……… Welcome home ++++++++++ Kate Sullivan inherited the house that once belonged to her great-grandmother. The old stone house sat on the edge of a ten-acre plat of land in Aughacasla, Ireland. Two weeks ago, she’d never heard of the small town and now, she owned a piece of it.
By Margaret Brennan2 years ago in Fiction
