Short Story
"Ding_Dong"
“Ding dong” is a sound we often hear in our daily lives. It may come from a doorbell, a clock, or even a game. Though it sounds small, this two-word sound holds big meaning. It can show someone is arriving, time is passing, or fun is starting. In this blog, we will explore the world of “ding dong” and how it connects to our lives.
By aadam khanabout a year ago in Fiction
In the Light of Her Eyes. Content Warning.
It began with a look—a look that pierced the dull haze of a rain-soaked Thursday afternoon in November. I was seated at the window of an urban coffee shop, my nose fogged with steam from coffee and loneliness. Routine was life now. I worked, returned to an empty apartment, listened to the ticking clock at night, and asked myself when something would shatter this locked box I referred to as a heart.
By Muhammad Abdullahabout a year ago in Fiction
The Honest Hustler – Jamal’s Road to Halal Success
In the narrow streets of Lahore, lived a young man named Jamal. He was 19, full of dreams, but without money, education, or support. His father had passed away when he was 13, and from that day, he became the “man of the house.”
By Waqif Khanabout a year ago in Fiction
Late Night Confessions by the Fluorescent Light. Honorable Mention in Leave the Light On Challenge.
We have a 24-hour supermarket near our house called Neighbourhood 24/7. I’d always wondered what kind of customers frequent a 24-hour supermarket late at night.
By Sandy Gillmanabout a year ago in Fiction
When the Moon Forgot Her Name
The first time they found her, she was lying in a wheat field just outside the edge of town—barefoot, dazed, and humming a song no one could place. Her skin shimmered faintly, as if dusted with frost under the midsummer sun. She didn’t speak. She didn’t run. She simply stared at the sky like it had let her down.
By Kamran Zebabout a year ago in Fiction
Thursdéjàvu
Yesterday was Thursday, April 25th. Today is Thursday, April 25th. Tomorrow will be Thursday, April 25th. I have woken up to the same April 25th so many times that I have lost count. My alarm goes off at 6:30am and I see the sun cresting through the curtains of my bedroom window. I listen to the birds’ chirp their familiar tune, “chirp chirp chirp chirp whoop whoop whoop trillllll…” then 27 seconds of calm before it repeats.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Fiction
How To Disappear: Part One
(Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, self-harm, homophobia, and bullying behavior) ~ Three days ago, Gabriel Hernandez threw himself from the fourth floor of his school building. The time was precisely four o’clock in the afternoon. He unlatched a window in the art classroom, stepped out onto the ledge, and jumped a distance of fifty feet down, landing on the concrete below.
By angela hepworthabout a year ago in Fiction
A Walk Through The Garden
Victor awoke with a terrified gasp, barely holding back a scream. He snapped up to a sitting position immediately, fueled by fear and adrenaline, then cradles his woozy, swimming head in his hands right after. In hindsight, sitting up so fast was not a smart idea. With a groan, he pivoted around and set his feet on the floor, bending over until his head was between his knees. It felt like his brain had been put in a blender on frappe; his stomach was doing flip-flops under his ribs, and his ears were filled with a shrill, high-pitched whine that refused to go away. By the time he got his breath back and the world stopped spinning like a Tilt-O-Whirl, he realized that whine was not a whine.
By Natalie Grayabout a year ago in Fiction
