Short Story
The Catalog of Forgotten Things
My job is, officially, the most boring job in the city. I am an Inventory Specialist for the Municipal Records Annex, which is just a pretentious way of saying I count boxes and make sure they match the number on the shelf. The Annex is a cold, dehumidified tomb of forgotten paperwork—old property deeds, decommissioned zoning maps, and decades of defunct library membership cards. My workspace is a small, gray cubicle next to a humming industrial air purifier; my soundtrack is the faint, rhythmic squeak of steel shelving under a heavy load.
By Murad Ali Shah11 months ago in Fiction
Five Minutes After the End of the World
No one expected the world to go silent so quickly. One moment the city roared with life, sirens weaving through traffic, people shouting over the clang of construction, screens blinking endlessly. Then the sky flashed with a color no scientist had a name for, a color that hummed inside the bones, and within seconds the noise collapsed into a suffocating stillness that felt too heavy to breathe. Only one person remained standing in the ruins of the final five minutes. Her name was Mara.
By Wahdat Rauf11 months ago in Fiction
Sarah and Nicole
Sarah gazed into her bedroom mirror, admiring her freshly brushed shoulder-length blonde hair and shiny pink lipgloss. She wanted to wear more makeup, but since she was only nine years old, her mom didn't think she was ready. It was annoying to have to wait, but at least her lipgloss went well with her pink skirt and top. Her nail polish was a similar shade of pink, and she had gotten very good at applying it evenly without getting it on her skin. Sarah grinned, happy with how pretty she had made herself for the party. She couldn't wait for everyone to see her.
By Leah Flesher11 months ago in Fiction
Halloween House Party (9). Content Warning.
Chapter 9: “Oh, I get it. You don’t actually care what happened, you just want to get me to confess to a crime I didn’t commit so you can look like a hero for wrapping things up so nicely. Am I warm?” I find my voice, snipping back at him.
By 𝓗. 𝓒. 𝓡𝓾𝓫𝔂11 months ago in Fiction
Second Chance
A Second Chance My day was off to a bad start. It all began when I woke up as I usually do by 4am, drenching in buckets of sweat and wondering why I couldn’t feel the blasted ceiling fan on me nor hear the swooshing of the blades as it spun around. I groggily stood up, carefully though, so as not to wake my two other siblings who I share the bed with. I traced my fingers on the wall to locate the light switch at the other end of the room and to my utter surprise, the click of the switch did not turn on any light, then, it sank in that ECG** (Electricity Company of Ghana) had done it again. Being so frustrated and irritated, I accidentally knocked my little toe on one of the furniture in the room. Ouch!!!
By Ewura Ekua Acquah11 months ago in Fiction
Day Four: Four Calling Birds
Stephen woke to an unusual quiet. The partridge perched peacefully on the windowsill like a feathered monk. The pigeons dozed in their bathroom exile. Even the French hens had clustered by the radiator, gossiping in polite whispers.
By Stephen Stanley11 months ago in Fiction
Letters from Nova — The Last Echo of Time. AI-Generated.
Letter I — The First Spark My dearest Alaric, I remember the first moment our eyes met — the world stood still. You didn’t notice it, but the rain outside froze midair. I felt the seconds hesitate, waiting for you to breathe again. That’s when I realized — you weren’t just a man who fixed clocks. You were a man who made time feel.
By shakir hamid11 months ago in Fiction
The Ghost in the Greenhouse
The Ghost in the Greenhouse When Science Meets the Supernatural, the Roots of Truth Run Deep Dr. Elara Voss had never believed in ghosts. A woman of science, she trusted in chlorophyll, carbon cycles, and the silent genius of photosynthesis. When she accepted the post at the Aurelia Conservatory a sprawling tropical greenhouse built deep within the Amazon basin she thought it would be a quiet retreat from the noise of academia. A sanctuary where she could study rare, endangered flora without the politics of funding or the interruptions of city life.
By Farooq Hashmi11 months ago in Fiction
The Lighthouse That Blinked Back
The first time the lighthouse blinked back, Elias thought he was losing his mind. He stood at the edge of the pier, coat flapping wildly in the cold wind, staring across the black water. The beam of light swept across the sea, paused, and then, impossibly, flashed twice in quick succession, as if winking. The pattern repeated, steady and deliberate. Elias’s heart thudded. Lighthouses didn’t blink back. They warned ships, not lonely men.
By Wahdat Rauf11 months ago in Fiction
The Photographer Who Couldn’t See Faces
The old man’s hand trembled as he rested the pen above the pristine white page. The studio was silent except for the occasional scratch of graphite on paper, a sound that seemed louder in the stillness of the room. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting a shiver pass through him. Memories of faces, faces he had captured for decades, now hovered just beyond the reach of his vision, blurred and distorted, as if the world itself had grown shy.
By Wahdat Rauf11 months ago in Fiction
