Young Adult
Beneath the Moonlit Sky
In the small town of Elmridge, tucked away among golden fields and whispering pines, time moved slowly. Life there was simple, predictable, and often quiet. But for seventeen-year-old Aria Lennox, everything changed the summer she met Kael Rivers.
By NIAZ Muhammadabout a year ago in Fiction
I Married a Man I Met at a Stranger’s Funeral
Prologue I shouldn’t have been there. The church was too quiet, filled with too much grief I hadn’t earned. I sat in the back row, legs crossed, sunglasses on, pretending my heart was shattered by the death of a woman I never knew. My dress was black silk. My lipstick was crimson sin. I looked like grief in high heels, and no one questioned me.
By Adrian-Razvan Ispasabout a year ago in Fiction
"What Happens After We Block Someone? A Digital Ghost Story Told by Algorithms"
I used to think that blocking someone was the end. A digital wall. A simple act of control in a chaotic, hyperconnected world. But what if I told you that’s not true? That when we block someone — or get blocked — it doesn’t delete the bond. It just buries it.
By Hamad Haiderabout a year ago in Fiction
The Brave Cub Who Walked Into the Storm
art of the African savanna, where golden grass whispers stories of survival and legacy, a lion cub named Leo was born. But unlike his siblings, who roared with instinct and leapt with promise, Leo was different. He was smaller. Quieter. Often overlooked. While the others played fiercely beneath the tall acacia trees, Leo watched from a distance—his eyes not on the games, but on the horizon. His paws were too small to race, his roar too soft to intimidate, and his legs trembled in the company of boldness. Yet there was something else inside him. A spark that didn’t show on the surface. A curiosity. A question. “Why don’t you join them?” his mother would ask gently, her golden eyes filled with worry. Leo would lift his head, ever so slightly. “Because I want to learn,” he would whisper. “I want to see the world before I try to conquer it.” Others in the jungle didn’t understand. They dismissed him. “Too small to matter,” scoffed the zebras. “Too quiet to be brave,” mocked the monkeys from their high, swinging homes. But Leo didn’t argue. He didn’t need to. Somewhere deep inside him, a voice far older than his own murmured: “Your time will come. And when it does, the world will know.” he Storm That Changed Everything It came without warning. The sky, once a blue canvas, darkened into a violent grey. Thunder cracked through the heavens, and the jungle trembled. The rain poured like arrows from the clouds, and the wind howled like forgotten spirits. Leo’s family, like many others, found refuge in a rocky cave near the cliffs. They huddled close, seeking warmth and safety as the world outside unravelled. Then came the sound that pierced the storm. A cry. Fragile and distant. Milo. The baby elephant from the neighboring herd. Lost. Alone. The lion king, Leo’s father, growled with authority. “No one moves. The storm is not kind to wanderers.” But Leo couldn’t sit still. His ears twitched at the sound. His heart raced—not with fear, but with purpose. “He’s out there,” Leo said, more to himself than anyone else. “He’s afraid.” “You’re just a cub,” his father barked. “Don’t be foolish.” But Leo had already stepped forward. His mother tried to stop him. But courage moves faster than doubt. And sometimes, a lion’s heart knows exactly when to roar—even if no one else can hear it.
By Arshad khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Room: A Haunting Tale of Hidden Emotions and Unspoken Truths
The Forgotten Room: A Haunting Tale of Hidden Emotions and Unspoken Truths By: Hamza Yaqoob Introduction What if you had a room inside your mind, one that held every memory you refused to face? What if you could walk through it—and uncover the secret you’ve been hiding from even yourself?
By Dr Hamza Yaqoob about a year ago in Fiction
The Rite of the First Meal. Top Story - June 2025.
The first time I cooked in a kitchen that was mine, I cried over a box of prepackaged rice. Not because it tasted good, it really didn’t, but because I could make it, eat it, and no one would take it from me. No footsteps thudding down the hall. No shouting. No disposal switch flipping like a guillotine. Just me, the steam rising from the pot, and a silence that finally felt soft instead of sharp. There was something about standing there, watching it simmer, the scent beginning to fill the air that made me remember the first time I tried to make it. I was eleven. I hadn’t eaten in days.
By M.R. Cameoabout a year ago in Fiction
Anthropomorphism. Top Story - June 2025.
It’s distressing, you know? While thinking aloud, I stumbled upon an unexpected epiphany. Maybe the way I’d been taking care of you had been a roundabout way to care for myself. That certainly wasn’t the intent, but in the long term that’s how it turned out to be.
By Lark Hanshanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Library That Only Appeared at Midnight
It was almost by accident that I found the library that only appeared at midnight. I had never heard anyone speak of it before—not in stories, not in rumors, not even in the strange local legends old towns like mine tend to cling to. It simply... existed. Or rather, it existed only after the clock struck twelve, and only if you weren’t really looking for it.
By Muhammad Asimabout a year ago in Fiction
The Pain I Hid Behind My Smile
People always said I had a beautiful smile. I’d hear it from teachers, friends, strangers in the grocery store. “You have such a bright smile,” they’d say. And I did. It was wide, practiced, and flawless. I wore it like armor. It was the one thing I could control when everything else in my life was falling apart.
By kamran khanabout a year ago in Fiction
The Girl Who Could Hear Your Regrets
The Girl Who Could Hear Your Regrets Listening to Unspoken Regrets and Finding Hope in Forgiveness In a small, quiet town nestled between rolling hills and dense forests, there lived a girl named Mira, who possessed a gift unlike any other. From a young age, she could hear the unspoken regrets of those around her — the quiet whispers of what might have been, the silent wishes to turn back time and make different choices. This ability was not something she had asked for, nor something she fully understood. It was a burden and a blessing, a constant murmur in her mind that painted the world in hues of sorrow, hope, and longing.
By Muhammad Asimabout a year ago in Fiction
