AFTAB KHAN
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Storyteller at heart, writing to inspire, inform, and spark conversation. Exploring ideas one word at a time.
Writing truths, weaving dreams — one story at a time.
From imagination to reality
Stories (99)
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The Summer That Wasn’t
I had a map. Not a literal one, though I did buy one of the laminated ones at the gas station, blue veins of interstate highways cutting through the country like restless arteries. But this map was in my head—of beaches, of reunions, of laughter over bonfires. Of promises made in spring when everything still felt possible.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Fiction
Porch Lights and Pickup Trucks
In the quiet bend of Mason County, tucked between slow rivers and cornfields that stretched for miles, sat the village of Wesley Hill. It wasn’t marked on most maps. The roads had no stoplights, and the diner served the same five meals since 1974. Yet it was the kind of place where you waved to strangers, left your doors unlocked, and borrowed sugar without asking.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Earth
Beneath the Rain Tree
There was an old rain tree in the center of Mira Valley, its massive branches stretching like arms over the open hill, casting a dappled shadow over the grass below. For decades, it stood quiet witness to wind, birds, time, and something else far rarer—a love story that waited.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Families
From Bellboy to Boss
The scent of fresh linens and polished floors lingered in the air of The Grand Regency Hotel. It was one of the busiest hotels in the city, known for its grandeur and high-profile clientele. Among the bustling staff, a young boy in a faded white shirt and slightly oversized uniform jacket stood near the elevator, holding a silver luggage cart.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Men
Under the Banyan Tree
Ravi was born in the small village of Dharmapur, nestled between rice paddies and mango groves. The village had no cinema, no mall, and only one dusty road that led in and out. But it had a banyan tree in the center, whose roots had kissed the earth for over 300 years, and under which the whole village gathered each evening.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Chapters
The Weight of Humanity
The year was 2149, and machines had taken over nearly every aspect of life. Not in a violent rebellion or a sudden uprising, but gradually—quietly. First came the helper bots. Then the AI-run governments, then the emotion-simulation programs. People handed over their decisions in exchange for efficiency. Laws were fair. Cities were clean. War had ended.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Humans
The Long Road to Dawn
When the sun rose over the small village of Mirajan, it rarely found anyone awake before its first light—except for Anil. Every day, long before the roosters crowed or the temple bells chimed, Anil was already out in the fields. His hands, calloused and darkened by years of toil, gripped the wooden handle of his plow like it was an extension of his will. He didn’t do it for pride or passion. He did it because he had no choice.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Humans
The Rain That Wouldn’t Stop
The rain had been falling for thirty-seven years. Not in drizzles or thunderstorms, but in a steady, endless curtain of water that blurred the horizon, soaked through every roof, and turned cities into sinking islands. It began without warning, somewhere over the Pacific. Climate scientists called it "The Deluge." Nations declared states of emergency, but there was no cure, no break in the clouds, no stopping it.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Beat
Whispers Beneath the Floorboards
When Ellie and her father moved into the crumbling old house on Ashford Lane, it was supposed to be a fresh start. The house was all they could afford after the accident that had taken her mother, the hospital bills, and the silent grief that lingered like smoke. Ellie didn’t complain. She was used to things being broken.
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Art
The Five Doors to Wealth
In the dusty town of Karuma, where sun-baked clay homes lined crooked streets, lived a boy named Jalen. He was born into poverty — not the kind seen in documentaries, but the kind that wraps around your bones and whispers, “You’ll never leave.”
By AFTAB KHAN7 months ago in Men
