Young Adult
The Eternal Promise
In a silent village, where rolling hills gently stretched, lived Aryan, a young man, and Meera, a woman. They grew up together like the roots of ancient trees since childhood. Every day, they shared laughter, secrets, and dreams, as their friendship grew like a sapling nurtured by soft rain and warm sunlight. Although deep, there was no romance or confession; it was a connection based on unspoken understanding and shared aspirations that went beyond words.
By Mahendra Kumar Behera2 years ago in Fiction
The Shepherd and the Sea
The sun, a molten coin sinking into the Aegean, painted the hills of ancient Laconia in hues of burnt orange and deep violet. Sixteen year old Leonidas, his skin burnished by the relentless sun and hands roughened by years of tending his father’s flock, watched the sheep graze. The rhythmic clanging of their bells and the rustling of olive leaves were the soundtrack to his quiet existence. But beneath his placid exterior, a yearning stirred a whisper of a world beyond the familiar pastures.
By Tales by J.J.2 years ago in Fiction
A Story of Two Passages
"Is it genuine that you are sure we're going the right way?"Polk ended his despairing excursion down the entry and turned around to stand up to his colleagues. Looking, starting with one introvert, then onto the next, his eyes finally showed up on the inquisitive, hurt AAA battery, which was progressively spilling potassium hydroxide out of its antagonistic terminal.
By Bishnu Kumar 2 years ago in Fiction
Beneath the Old Magnolia Tree
he old magnolia tree stood at the heart of the park, its branches stretched wide like welcoming arms. It had seen decades of love stories, whispered secrets, and quiet moments of solitude. For Lily, it was her refuge—a place where she could escape the noise of the world and lose herself in the pages of her journal. Lily had been coming to the magnolia tree for years. It was where she wrote her poetry, drew sketches of passing clouds, and dreamed of a life that felt just out of reach. On this particular afternoon, the air was heavy with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sun filtered through the branches, casting dappled light on the grass. She was lost in thought, pen hovering over her notebook, when a voice interrupted her. “Mind if I sit here?” Startled, Lily looked up to see a man standing a few feet away. He held a camera slung over his shoulder and had a sheepish smile, as if he wasn’t sure she’d agree. “Sure,” she replied, gesturing to the empty bench beside her. “Thanks,” he said, settling down. “I’m Caleb, by the way.” “Lily.” For a moment, they sat in silence. Caleb fiddled with his camera, adjusting the lens as if he were searching for the perfect shot. Lily tried to focus on her writing, but curiosity got the better of her. “What are you taking pictures of?” she asked. “The tree,” he said simply. “It’s beautiful. It feels… timeless.” Lily smiled. “It is. I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. It’s my favorite spot.” Caleb looked at her, his eyes warm and curious. “Do you write about it?” “Sometimes,” she admitted. “Mostly, I just write whatever comes to mind. It helps me think.” “Can I see?” Lily hesitated. Her journal was private, filled with her innermost thoughts and feelings. But there was something about Caleb’s presence that felt safe, like he wouldn’t judge her. Tentatively, she handed him the notebook. He flipped through the pages, his expression softening as he read. “These are beautiful,” he said after a moment. “You have a way with words.” “Thanks,” Lily said, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. Caleb handed the notebook back and stood, adjusting his camera again. “Mind if I take a picture of you under the tree? You fit here, like you’re part of its story.” Lily laughed, but there was a hint of shyness in her voice. “I’m not really photogenic.” “Everyone says that,” Caleb replied. “But trust me, the camera sees things differently.” Reluctantly, Lily agreed. Caleb directed her to stand near the trunk of the tree, her notebook in hand. The moment he raised his camera, something shifted. Lily felt a sense of ease, as if the tree itself was holding her in its embrace.
By Graymore Macad2 years ago in Fiction
Why Fiction Matters: A Philosophy of Literature Guide That Will Change How You Read . Content Warning. AI-Generated.
Why Fiction Matters: A Philosophy of Literature Guide That Will Change How You Read ? Some stories stick with us forever, don't they? The sort of thing I love to study is why certain tales become part of who we are. Over the last several years, my journey as a reader and researcher has shown that stories affect our way beyond simple entertainment.
By Mariyam Abraham2 years ago in Fiction
Beyond Those Stars
"Ivy loved the night sky. For her it wasn't just a dark expanse of nothingness like most people, but a portal to endless mysteries and fascination. She liked to sit under the moonlight for hours, speculating questions like 'Miles, do you know how stars die?' or 'Have you ever thought what might be at the end of the universe?'. Her favorite one that she always came back to was 'Do you think there is a world beyond those stars? What do you think that world is like?' I used to just nod and laugh at her questions and then attempted reasonings, telling her that she was thinking too much. But the truth was, the sky didn't intrigue me like it did her, I just loved listening to her talk. It was like she took you to a different world with herself, one brighter and better than this one."
By Kartikey Mishra2 years ago in Fiction
