Short Story
Love, Please Return
Love, Please Return Sometimes, love is about longing, suffering, and hope that will not give up. It is not always about happy endings. This is the real-life story of Rohan and Aisha, two souls who loved deeply but lost their way, only to realize that some hearts are meant to beat together, no matter how far they drift apart.
By Afia Sikder2 years ago in Fiction
Constant Care and Jealousy
Love was love, even after marriages...! He was a decade older than I was. But I took care of him. Although he performed the role of a protector and earner as usual, I also focused on the job I was doing when I was unmarried, and even after I was promoted as a wife, I took on his responsibilities on my own shoulders.
By Rohitha Lanka2 years ago in Fiction
The Murder Ticket
The prisons were overwhelmed and overcrowded and recruitment was at an all time low. So the government proposed a lottery: eligible prisoners – non-violent, non-sexual, non-career criminals – could win rewards and dispensations, including the chance to leave the prison forever.
By Addison Alder2 years ago in Fiction
The Bitter Winter of 1944. Top Story - March 2025.
The cold in 1944 was unnatural—it was a cold that breathed. It moved beneath your skin, coiled in your lungs. Private Ben Mercer had stopped feeling his fingers days ago, but each morning he counted them like rosary beads. Ten. Always ten.
By Sandor Szabo2 years ago in Fiction
Room 13
It was one dreadful evening, the rain and wind lashed the Whitmore Hotel like an angry god. Here comes Evelyn Carter stepping inside the edifice with her coat dripping water on the checkered floor. While shivering from being beaten by rain, she could smell old wood, wax, and something faintly metallic.
By Victor Mebisse2 years ago in Fiction
Shadows on the Concrete
Chapter I: Two White Belts Under normal circumstances, few would conduct Taekwondo drills in such a stark, open-air setting. Yet for Hyun Park and Noah Williams, the minimal setting was not only a test of skill but a reflection of their innermost discipline. Both men had arrived at this unusual venue for reasons no one else quite understood—perhaps not even they did. It was an abandoned rooftop in the center of the city, rumored to have been used decades ago as an industrial terrace. Now, it was a wide, dusty plane of concrete, painted in the scorching daylight with nary a piece of shade or greenery in sight.
By Alpha Cortex2 years ago in Fiction
Death by Moonlight . Top Story - March 2025.
I put down my sandwich, the salty pickles and melty cheese not hitting like usual; each swallow felt hollow. I sighed. Comfort food had lost its comfort. I reluctantly switched on the TV, wishing I could stay in denial. I slid the curtains closed to block the glare.
By Steph Marie2 years ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Clockmaker
The Forgotten Clockmaker The town of Harrow’s Edge was a place where time seemed to slow down, as if the clocks in the village had agreed to drift into a perpetual slumber. The narrow cobblestone streets were lined with quaint cottages, and the market square, though always bustling with chatter, never seemed to age. There was one peculiar building in this town that people whispered about—the clock shop at the edge of the square. No one knew when it had been built or who owned it. The windows were fogged up, and the door creaked when it opened, but it had been there for as long as anyone could remember.
By Bob Madden2 years ago in Fiction
Ballyhoo at the Hall of Mirrors
“Step right up, step right up! Come see the amazing, the magical, the mesmerizing HALL OF MIRRORS. See yourself like you’ve never seen yourself before. You’ll be entranced. You’ll be astounded. You’ll be enlightened. Gaze into your own reflection and see the wonders of what can be, what will be, what was never to come. What’s your name son, what’s your name?”
By Amos Glade2 years ago in Fiction
