Irony
When Integers Attack. Honorable Mention in Absurdist Awakening Challenge. Top Story - March 2025.
The dreaded SAT starts promptly at 8:30 am in the morning. Too damn early if you ask me. Getting a good score is the only way of getting a scholarship into a decent college (unless you get a B-list actress to pay someone to take the test for you). Ninety of us are packed in like herrings, nine neat rows, entering demographic information in case universities want to contact us directly. Lots of codes and crap to enter: student ID, school, room number, blood type, next of kin, my car’s VIN.
By Barb Dukeman2 years ago in Humor
Mom's Great Beyond Resort
The scent of tropical flowers and the soft rustle of palm leaves filled the air as I found myself again in a dream that felt suspiciously real. The golden sand beneath my feet felt warm, and the waves hummed a soft, hypnotic tune. Then, as I turned, there she was—my mother, standing before me with an impish grin and the unmistakable twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
By Anthony Chan2 years ago in Humor
Tomtom
TomTom, the iconic Nigerian menthol candy produced by Cadbury Nigeria since the 1970s, holds a special place in many hearts for its strong menthol flavour and distinctive black-and-white oval design. Known for its refreshing properties, it soothes sore throats, clears nasal congestion, and freshens breath. Each pack typically contains 40 individually wrapped candies, making it a convenient companion for work or travel.
By Oluremi Adeoye2 years ago in Humor
Sarah Cooper Returns!
She's back, folks! It has been at least one month since that individual in that nation to the south took the oath of office and much of the respect and honour earned by other presidents over many years. It has not been the most pleasant time of the year to consider all those jobs lost, the arrests made, the idiotic comments made, and the future plans that will disrupt trade, business, and make life much harder for those of us who thought we could surf above the nonsense we knew was coming our way.
By Kendall Defoe 2 years ago in Humor
Oui, Oui, je vais à Paris!
C’est vrai! Vous pouvez imaginer? Moi! Desmina de Vil, la fille de Cruelle, vais à Paris! I celebrated my 24th birthday on some rainy night - quel temps du chien!- in Paris. I was in the Metro when my new iPhone (and heart) got snatched up by some RUDE boy.
By Desmina de Vil2 years ago in Humor
The Silent Town
Daniel Carter had traveled to many places in search of unusual stories, but nothing compared to what he had heard about Ravenshade—a town where no one spoke. The rumors were strange. Some said the townspeople had taken a vow of silence generations ago. Others whispered about a terrible event that had stolen their voices. Whatever the truth was, Daniel was determined to find out. As he drove into the town, an eerie silence surrounded him. The streets were clean, the houses well-maintained, but something felt… off. He parked his car near a small café and walked inside. A woman stood behind the counter, smiling politely. “Excuse me,” Daniel said. “Could I get a coffee?” The woman nodded and turned to prepare it, but she didn’t say a word. Daniel looked around. Other customers sat at tables, drinking their coffee, reading newspapers—but no one spoke. There was no hum of conversation, no laughter, no greetings. Just silence. When the woman placed the coffee in front of him, Daniel tried again. “Why doesn’t anyone here talk?” She simply shook her head, then pointed to a wooden sign on the wall: "Welcome to Ravenshade. Please respect our silence." Daniel frowned. This wasn’t normal. Determined to find answers, he walked around town, observing the people. Everyone communicated through gestures—shopkeepers writing prices instead of speaking, children playing without shouting, even old friends greeting each other with only a nod. It was as if sound itself was forbidden. Finally, he spotted an elderly man sitting on a bench near the town’s small library. Unlike the others, the man had a sadness in his eyes, as if he carried a heavy burden. Daniel sat beside him. “Can you write down why no one talks?” he asked, offering his notepad. The man hesitated, then slowly took the pen and wrote a single word: “Curse.” Daniel’s heart pounded. A curse? Before he could ask more, the man underlined the word and tapped the notepad twice, as if warning him. That night, Daniel stayed at the town’s only inn. As he lay in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about what he had learned. What had happened here? At midnight, he woke up to a strange sound. A whisper. It was faint, almost like the wind, but it sent chills down his spine. Daniel got up and looked outside. The town was completely still—except for the library. Its doors, which had been locked earlier, now stood open. Grabbing his flashlight, he stepped outside. The silence felt heavier now, like the air itself was holding its breath. Inside the library, the shelves were covered in dust, and old books lay scattered on the floor. Then, in the far corner, Daniel saw something that made his blood run cold. A newspaper, dated October 17, 1954, with the headline: "Tragedy Strikes Ravenshade – Town’s Children Vanish Without a Trace." His hands trembled as he read the article. Decades ago, on that very night, every child in Ravenshade had disappeared. No one knew how or why. The only clue left behind was a strange, chilling whisper that echoed through the town. Desperate for answers, the townspeople had made a pact. They would never speak again, believing that sound itself had angered whatever force had taken their children. Daniel backed away, his heart racing. And then— He heard it again. A whisper. But this time, it was right behind him. The flashlight flickered, the temperature in the room dropping. A cold breath brushed against his ear, and a voice, barely audible, whispered: "Leave before they take you too." Daniel didn’t need to be told twice. By sunrise, he was gone. He never wrote about Ravenshade. He never spoke of what happened. Because some stories are meant to stay silent.
By Hridoy Hasan2 years ago in Humor
