Sketches
My Cat Thinks I Work for Her: A Day in My Servitude
Introduction: If you've ever lived with a cat, you know that they own you rather than you own them. As a proud but slightly defeated servant to my feline overlord, Whiskers, I have learned to accept that my life revolves around her needs, whims, and demands. The more I try to establish dominance, the more I realize I’m merely a background character in her kingdom. This is the tale of my daily life, filled with humor, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of inferiority to a creature that weighs barely more than a bag of flour.
By Afia Sikder2 years ago in Humor
I Tried Meditation and Fell Asleep
Introduction The goal of meditation is to bring inner peace, clarity, and insight. But for me, it just brought deep, uninterrupted sleep. When I first decided to try meditation, I had high hopes that I would become more mindful, have less stress, and maybe even discover some of my own wisdom. I, on the other hand, kept drifting off into dreamland. At first, I thought I was doing something wrong. However, it turned out that my unintentional nap gave me a completely new perspective on meditation, relaxation, and what it really means to be mindful. The Decision to Meditate
By Afia Sikder2 years ago in Humor
Chef Nakamura. Top Story - March 2025.
In the quiet hum of his West Village restaurant, Chef Nakamura slides his blade through a pristine slab of bluefin tuna. “One million and one,” he murmurs. He has counted every slice of fish, ever since starting his first restaurant. His father said a real man avoids frivolous controversy, seeks simple work and dedication. Nakamura had taken those words to heart.
By Scott Christenson🌴2 years ago in Humor
Mrs. Butcher’s Cleaning Service. Runner-Up in Absurdist Awakening Challenge.
“You’ve reached Mrs. Butcher’s Cleaning Service. The finest cleaners in all of Pteetneet City. You need it dusted, we’re the ones to be trusted. This is Beverly Butcher, what can I clean for you?”
By Amos Glade2 years ago in Humor
LUCAS AND THE GREAT BROCCOLI BATTLE. AI-Generated.
Lucas never imagined that buying a liter of milk would turn into an odyssey. But everything changed the moment he stepped into the supermarket. The fluorescent lights flickered, the background music spiraled into a frantic waltz, and an empty shopping cart rolled towards him as if inviting him to climb in.
By Alain SUPPINI2 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
