Autobiography

The Weight of Unspoken Words
Arthur’s fingers, gnarled with age and the years he’d spent sifting through brittle pages, traced the fresh ink on the heavy cream paper. Eleanor. Just her name. He hadn’t even started the salutation, and already the familiar ache had settled in his chest, right behind his sternum, a dull, persistent throb that had been his constant companion for decades. The lamplight, a pools of anemic yellow, barely pushed back the encroaching shadows in his small study. Outside, the city was a low hum, a distant, living thing he rarely bothered to acknowledge anymore. Inside, it was just him, the scratch of his pen, and the ghost of a choice he’d made a lifetime ago.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Chapters
World War 3: Fear, Power, and the Dangerous Language of Our Time
World War 3: Fear, Power, and the Dangerous Language of Our Time The phrase “World War 3” has become one of the most searched and shared terms in recent years. It appears in headlines, political speeches, social media posts, and everyday conversations. Some people treat it as an inevitable future, while others dismiss it as fear-mongering. The truth, however, lies in a more complex and serious space—one that demands caution, context, and responsibility.
By Wings of Time about a month ago in Chapters
Are We Standing at the Edge of World War Three?
Are We Standing at the Edge of World War Three In recent months, the phrase “World War Three” has returned to public conversations with an unsettling force. It appears in news headlines, political speeches, social media debates, and late-night discussions among ordinary people who feel the weight of uncertainty growing heavier each day. While no official declaration of a global war exists, the fear itself has become real—and fear, history teaches us, is often the first step toward catastrophe.
By Wings of Time about a month ago in Chapters
Why Fears of a Third World War Are Growing
A World on Edge: Why Fears of a Third World War Are Growing The phrase “World War Three” no longer sounds distant or fictional to many people around the world. It appears in headlines, political speeches, social media debates, and late-night conversations filled with anxiety. While no official declaration of a global war exists, the growing fear itself is worth examining. This story is not a claim that a world war will begin soon, but an exploration of why so many people believe the world is moving dangerously close to one.
By Wings of Time about a month ago in Chapters
The Glass Heart of the Mountain
Elias carried the weight of the mountain on his shoulders, even when he wasn't tunneling through it. It was in the slump of his shoulders, the ache in his knees, the dust ground into the lines of his face. Ten years, maybe more, since the lung sickness took Clara. Ten years since Maria packed a small bag and left him with only the smell of her lavender soap lingering in the empty house. He hadn’t really mined since, not properly. Just scraped by, fixing fences, hauling lumber, the kind of back-breaking work that didn’t leave room for thinking too much.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Chapters
Weight of the White
The world outside Arthur’s kitchen window had bled to nothing but white, a thick, insistent fall that swallowed sound whole. It was past midnight, way past, the kind of hour where even the hum of the fridge felt like a shout. The snow wasn’t falling, not really; it was descending, a slow, deliberate surrender. Each flake, a tiny ghost, settling onto the already heavy drifts that piled against the sill, blurring the sharp edges of the night. He hadn’t turned on any lights, just stood there in the faint, bruised light from the streetlamp across the way, watching it.
By HAADI2 months ago in Chapters
404: Reality not found. Content Warning.
Chapter 1 – The Beginning When this story started, my life looked completely different from what it is now. I had been stuck in an amphetamine cycle for a few years, one I couldn’t escape anymore. Days blurred together—work, nights, loneliness. Everything felt like a smudged picture, and I no longer knew whether I still had any control or if I had lost it long ago.
By Piotr Nowak2 months ago in Chapters
The Dust-Eater's Confession
The air in the Old Reading Room always tasted like paper and forgotten lives. Elias, bent over a table scarred by generations of elbows, breathed it in, a dry, comforting dust that settled in his lungs. His glasses perched low on his nose, magnifying the spider-web script of the 17th-century ledger he was trying to decipher. Outside, the city hummed, a faraway, inconsequential thing. In here, time had seized up, thick and unmoving as molasses, caught between the stacks of decaying leather and crumbling vellum.
By HAADI2 months ago in Chapters
The River That Changed Color with Memory
The water reflected collective memory. Trauma darkened it. Healing lightened it. Time alone did nothing—reflection did.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Clocktower That Rang During Understanding
The bell rang not at hours—but at realizations. Some heard it often. Others never did. The sound could not be forced.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Shadow That Grew Softer Over Time
At first, the shadow felt threatening. Over time, as it was acknowledged daily, it softened. Fear shrank when observed without resistance.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters
The Room That Refused Decoration
Nothing stayed on the walls. Paint faded. Objects disappeared. Only conversations mattered. The room stripped life down to presence and discovered that it was enough.
By GoldenSpeech2 months ago in Chapters