Short Story
Fear. Ecstasy. Indifference.
I am terrified. I am ecstatic. I feel nothing. I feel a sensation travel up my sternum. It is unidirectional. It traverses across my clavicle; further moving along my arms until it reaches my fingertips. I look at them; trying to understand what's happening. The harder I try, the more it eludes me.
By Muhammad Mustafa2 years ago in Fiction
The Whispering Willow and the Lost Melody
Once upon a time, nestled beside a babbling brook, stood an ancient willow tree. Its branches, long and weeping, touched the ground like the arms of a tired old man. This wasn’t just any willow; it was said to whisper secrets to those who listened closely. Many villagers claimed it held the lost melodies of their ancestors, songs sung long ago and now forgotten.
By Mirhadi Tahsin2 years ago in Fiction
The Story of a Hindu Woman's Belief in Surah Al-Fatiha
In an Arab tribe, there lived a non-Muslim married woman. Her husband was a wealthy businessman. One day, she heard that in the land of Arabia, meaning Mecca, Allah's last and most beloved prophet had received a revelation. This revelation was a surah called "Surah Al-Fatiha," which contained healing for every disease. Anyone on whom this surah was recited or blown upon would be healed, and it held countless blessings.
By Delta Roblox Executor Download APK 2026 latest New Update2 years ago in Fiction
The Black Window
He woke and there was something wrong, well something had changed. There was a window in the bedroom wall and outside the glass it was black. The wall was between the bedroom and the lounge in the apartment, so he thought, "What the hell is this?".
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 years ago in Fiction
Everything is Fine
The old cemetery outside of town, tucked just past the knotted woods and beneath the endless, judging sky, is a place of whispers. No one goes there - not out of fear, exactly, but because of the way it feels. Uncanny, they call it. As if the air hums too low to hear but too deep to ignore. There’s the old watchtower, straight and unnervingly sturdy, its stones unweathered despite the years, as if it’s anchored by something more than mortar. And the collapsed mausoleum, where shadows gather long after the sun moves on.
By Iris Obscura2 years ago in Fiction
The Butterfly’s Veil
The Butterfly’s Secret In the quaint town of Velmorin, nestled in a valley of endless wildflowers, there stood a small fabric store named Luna's Atelier. Its owner, Aveline Miran, was as enigmatic as she was beautiful. Her fabrics were unlike anything anyone had ever seen—vivid hues of sapphire, emerald, and amethyst that seemed to shimmer with a life of their own.
By Mary Emmanuel2 years ago in Fiction











