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Why website for hotel or guesthouse is prerequisite for online business success
In today’s digital era, having a professional website has shifted from being a luxury to a necessity for any hotel. A hotel’s own website is not just a digital business card—it’s a powerful marketing tool that drives direct bookings and builds lasting relationships with guests.
By Mimi Ivanovaabout a year ago in Writers
Voices of Tomorrow
The world hadn’t ended in fire or flood. It ended in silence. No alarms. No protests. Just the slow dimming of noise, like a volume dial turning down humanity’s spirit. In the city of Niora, silence was the law. The Sound Code, passed two decades earlier, had turned every public word into a monitored whisper. Even laughter in the wrong context could lead to a knock on the door—one no one ever answered the same way twice. Music? Gone. Books with poetry or passion? Redacted. Every conversation monitored, every thought molded through the VoiceNet chip installed in every child at birth. It was called “peace.” But to anyone paying attention, it was a graveyard. Among the crumbling outer sectors of Niora, beyond the radius of surveillance drones and hollow-eyed enforcers, the silence cracked. A boy named Elian cracked it. He was sixteen, lean with wild eyes and a mind that saw patterns where others saw rules. Born in a district too poor to maintain its infrastructure, his VoiceNet chip had glitched at birth. It never activated. His parents, too fearful to report it, had raised him in secrecy, teaching him to pretend—to mimic the dull, emotionless speech of others while keeping his real voice buried beneath layers of caution. But Elian had questions. Too many. Why could no one sing? Why were the old instruments burned? Why did every face look like it had forgotten joy? Then, on a night brushed with stormclouds, he found a notebook buried under the floorboards of an abandoned train station. It had no author. Just pages filled with strange symbols, fragments of melody, and something he’d never seen before: Lyrics. He read the lines over and over, whispering them to himself, and for the first time, something inside him resonated. A feeling he couldn’t describe, like thunder behind his ribs. In the weeks that followed, he taught himself to speak differently. Not flat and filtered, but with rhythm. With intention. Then, he began to hum. Softly at first, in the alleys and ruins, mimicking the rise and fall of sound from the notebook. He didn’t know the drones had heard him. That a low-level surveillance AI flagged it. But by then, it was too late. Because others had already found him. Leira, the daughter of a council worker, who had secretly recorded the echo of her grandmother’s lullaby before she passed. Juno, who built crude instruments from scrap metal and wood and had never once followed a rule she didn’t rewrite. And Sami, mute since the Purge, but who communicated in beats tapped into walls—her silence more powerful than any scream. Together, they formed what would become the spark of change: The Resonance. They met in shadowed basements, forgotten stations, and rooftops where the wind could carry their experiments away. Leira hacked VoiceNet dampeners. Juno found a way to redirect old broadcast towers. And Elian wrote. He wrote songs—new ones and old lines reborn. His voice deepened as he read them aloud, and one night, as they stood beneath a broken dome and let the sound fly, something miraculous happened. A drone hovered nearby. And it didn’t report them. Instead, it paused. Its lights flickered. Then it dropped to the ground, dead. Somehow, Elian’s voice—layered with the right notes and frequencies—had interfered with the machine’s code. They realized then: the silence wasn’t just psychological. It was structural. Engineered through frequency control. The right sound could break it. That’s when the plan formed. On the Day of Harmony—a global broadcast event designed to “reinforce collective unity”—The Resonance would hijack the main transmission tower. They would play a song. Not just any song. A song stitched from the dreams of the silenced. Words that had waited a generation to be spoken. They called it The Awakening Verse. Getting to the tower took everything: stolen credentials, rigged transports, and sacrifices they never spoke of again. But they reached the core. Elian stood before the microphone—sweating, shaking, fire in his chest. When he opened his mouth, his voice wasn’t just his own. It was everyone’s. The lullabies, the laughter, the grief, the dreams. It hit the city like a storm. Screens shattered. Chips malfunctioned. For the first time in twenty years, people heard something real. And remembered what it meant to feel alive!
By MUHAMMAD Hukamran about a year ago in Writers
Love Quotes Story
"Love Quotes" I don't know if you can discuss the story in detail, but it won't be all there is to it. Before we get into the details of the story, let's talk about the main characters. Let's talk about our story, Nanini. Niladrita Chowdhury, Sameer Chowdhury's eldest daughter. Age 29+. Good looking, not fair but not dark either. Mukhasree is like her goddess Durga, with deep eyes, round face, and hooked nose. After completing her studies, she has now taken over the business with her father on her own accord. Although the father's dream was to see his daughter become a doctor, this calm-natured girl faints at the sight of blood, so even though his hopes were dashed, Sameerbabu and Antaradevi are now very happy with their eldest daughter, Neel. She is far from love, and love has not even come close to her. The girl has grown up, and her parents have started talking a lot about marriage. Now let's talk about the younger daughter, Ragini Chowdhury, age 25+. There is not much of an age difference between the two sisters. However, if Neel is the North Pole, Ragini is the South Pole. She looks fairly fair, with dark hair like her mother. Goddess Kali by nature. She gets angry when lime is peeled from a banana. Even with Neel Mishu, Ragini talks less, is serious all the time, but that's outside. At home, she talks great. Sameer Babu couldn't make his eldest daughter a doctor, so what does it matter, the younger daughter is still a girl, she hasn't finished her studies yet. Although there is no resemblance between the two sisters, on the one hand, Ragini is also far from love. Moreover, with her nature and behavior, no boy has dared to stand in front of her and propose to her till date. As much as her parents are worried about Neel, they are equally worried about this girl. Because Ragini, aka the universal "Tiger", takes the house to her head as soon as she hears the word marriage.
By MOHAMMED FARHADabout a year ago in Writers
The Soft Ending
Nobody ever said the end would be this quiet. I used to think my 30s would come crashing in with some dramatic revolution—fireworks, a breakdown, a breakthrough, something. But instead, it feels like a slow fade-out. A soft closing of a chapter that was louder than it needed to be.
By Jordan Jamesabout a year ago in Writers
Short Love Status
That's the day we met My heart was in love with you, My heart said, I'm going to her Tell me what was wrong with my heart? You made a mistake, you laughed 😊 You and I became one in an instant, Love came from heaven before I realized anything.❤️ Our love story began with a little bit of you and a little bit of me, the moment we fell in love.
By MOHAMMED FARHADabout a year ago in Writers
I can't stop myself from adopting cats!
? I feel the same way too! Cats are just a cute creatures that you couldn't just stop adoring them. The whiskers, their toe beans, their fishy breath and sweet scent are just addicting! I love seeing cats in the middle of their nap. They look squishy and huggable. It doesn't matter if it's a stray cat or domestic, they are the most adorable creatures ever to exist! At least for me. Stopping myself from adopting cats has been a big dilemma of mine. I started to love cats when I was in first grade. My grandma does not like them, but I do! So back then, I snuck in a little kitten into our house when she was hanging out with her friends. I named the kitty as ‘Uling’ (Coal) because it was black and I still do not have the ability to identify if a cat is a male or female. It has been only a short time since I was with that kitty but sadly I have to let it go because I do not want to see my grandma boiling with anger. After letting it go, I told myself that I will not adopt a kitty cat until I reach 15...but guess what—stopping the urge to adopt a cat only lasted for 3 years. At fifth grade, I saw a very cute ginger cat. It looked like it has no home and can't find itself some food. It was a male cat. I carried it like a child of mine and decided to go home with it. Unfortunately, my mom did not like the idea of me adopting a cat. I ignored her and just continued playing with my cat inside the house. My grandma and other relatives saw me playing with it, so I thought it's cool. I played with the ginger cat and named it ‘Maple’. He was a very gentle cat and loves snuggling. I ended that day with Maple and I hugging each other. However—the next day, after I wake up, I no longer see Maple inside my room. Turns out, they gave him away. I was very frustrated and sad because they took him away from me without telling me. But what made me feel better is when they told me that they will get me a cat if I stop adopting on my own will without consulting them. So I agreed with what they said and stopped adopting cats. Years later, during the peak of pandemic, it felt very lonely for me. I am already 15 years old, and I wanted to fulfill what I promised to myself before, but I can't go out and hunt kitty cats to adopt because of the virus. So I have to be patient. Luckily, my parents gave me my first personal phone. Something that I can use for online class. Online class means watching cat videos. Videos, photos, or memes related to cats is what kept me entertained back then. But I really do miss having my own cat. Until year 2022, where the virus cases are starting to decrease, my dad came home late at night—with a cat! Yes! that was the first time that I own a cat without hiding from my family! I still cherish that moment. It was a gray female tabby cat and I love her very much. She is ‘Patty’ but sometimes my family calls her ‘Ash’ which I didn't like because it sounds like a cornball. She was with me for about 6 months, but unfortunately, she snuck out of the house the last time I was cooking and she got ran over by a red car. It was a heart breaking sight. My first cat left me out of the blue, and I will forever loathe that red car. Until I reached 10th grade, I saw my classmate who brought his kitten in our school. I was very jealous to the point that I asked and begged the odds to give me one. Until the calendar hit my 16th birthday and I got a tuxedo cat as a present. I was beyond grateful and happy. It was the best birthday gift I have ever received. It was a male cat and I named him ‘Louis’ (Lu-wi). He's such a good kitty cat. I treat like how I treated my previous cats. I gave him all my love and money. But he didn't last long with me because my grandpa gave him away. I told my friend about what happened and she promised that she'll give me another one. I told her that it's okay but she still insisted. Months later and after the C.A.T Program, I immediately went home to rest. To my surprise, there was a delivery waiting for me. My other two classmates went to my home while handling a paper bag. And that paper bag contains two (2) kitty cats...and I got bamboozled. The fatigue that I was experiencing suddenly fade away and I accepted the paper bag with all my heart as I smile ear-to-ear. They are two! two kitties in a bag! And I can't help but to feel happy. I thanked my friend and started to shift my focus on my cats. They are the apex predators of the cat food factory! Always a hungry beasts! But it didn't matter to me because I will sacrifice my allowance for them. My family loves them too which made feel a measure of relief. I named the cats ‘Lotti’ the tuxedo cat and ‘Totti’ the tabby cat. They are both females. I love them with all my heart. I gave everything to them. My own allowance, my spare money. I bought them toys, their own collars, litter box and litter sand which is quite expensive, and undying stocks of cat foods—wet and dry. I am so glad that I really treated them like my own child—like I was the one who gave birth to them. Now, even though I still have them, my cat greediness is unstoppable. A week before the moving-up, I heard a kitten crying near my house. It was dark outside and cold so I went out to check if there's a cat outside. I found a little cheese cat that looks like a duck in front of the house and she was hiding behind the plants. So I carried the little baby and adopted her. I do not know what to do at first because it was a week old cat, and I do not have the knowledge on how will I be able to feed her. Upon researching, I found that goat's milk is good for little cats like her. But it was late and no store is open at that time. So I gave her some of Lotti and Totti's wet food. I was glad that she was able to eat it. Days later, after the moving-up ceremony, me and my grandpa went home and I immediately went to my room. From a happy gal to teary one. I found out that my cheese cat wasn't breathing anymore. I do not know what happened as she was the only one there. The room is well ventilated, she has her own bed and milk. I have no choice but to mourn and bury her. Her name was ‘Mitty’ and I named her after my favorite singer's name. The other day after the passing of my cheese cat, another one showed up. It seems like the universe really wants to test my cat adopting skills. It was a dark and rainy night. My mom went home with a box of juice that contains a little cat. Yes, I got another Mitty but burnt. I accepted the cat. I named her ‘Ash’ because she looks like a burnt potato and a bit identical to Patty. But she also did not last longer with me. I also found her not breathing from her bed when I went home after class. She's also a week old and also a month, but sadly, the odds took her away from me. I had to move on. Days, weeks, and months passed my mom gave me another cat to adopt. She also looks like a duck, but unfortunately, she didn't last a day with me because she went back to her old hood. I named her ‘Bonnie’. Until the cycle continues... I saw cat at the stairs of the senior high building. And I immediately carried it on the way to my classroom. My classmate named him ‘Tutoy’ and he is well-loved by my classmates. And since I found him at school, what he ate that time was a big piece of ham and he had water to keep himself hydrated. He is a very very very clingy cat. Whenever I try to poke my lips in front him, he'll give me a kiss. He always follow me whenever I go, he loves vegetables and he eats what I cook for him. But sadly, after the typhoon from which he survived—he was chilling beside the house until motorcycle ran him over. That was my biggest heart break. And...the cycle still continues. I adopt a cat every other week. I feed stray cats and repeat. The cycle continued until they reached the number of 20. Yes, I already adopted 20 cats...but I had to give the others away in order to save space. Up until now, the present day, I still adopt cats. I adopt only the unfortunate cats/stray cats that needs help. And after I helped the cats, I give them away to other people that loves cats like me. I even adopted the cats that came from the roof of our house. I see them as a biological children of mine. I still continue the cycle nowadays. Today, the only cat that is with me is Lotti. I assumed that Totti was missing before as she didn't went home for days until I can no longer find her. The universe knows how much I adore cats. I really really love these four-legged creatures. I hope someday, I'll meet someone who loves cats like me. I am here, waiting for a stray cat to pass by as I am ready to welcome it with open arms. If there's none, then I'll wait for someone to give me one xD. (definitely a pun).
By Carlyn Jhayne about a year ago in Writers
When Caring Turns to Love: What Happens with the Nightingale Effect?
One of the distinctive features of Nightingale Syndrome is that one partner in the relationship serves as the "caregiver" to help the other person pick up the pieces after a tragedy of some kind, such as a death, breakup, lost job, etc. The relationship is about one person being helped consistently while the other person is essentially the helper.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Writers
