Historical
The Two Twin Williams
The Two Twin Williams The night their mother died, the wind carried no song. The house stood still beneath the weight of sorrow. A candle flickered beside her bed as the midwife whispered prayers. One child cried in his Mothers arms, strong and fierce, the other weaker, silent as the grave she would soon fill. The nurse lifted the quiet one, wrapped him in cloth, and looked to the woman who was slipping away. She will not live till dawn, the midwife said. The nurse nodded once, then vanished into the cold with the child. No one saw her leave, no one asked why. By morning, only one boy lay beside the mother’s still hands. They named him William and buried her beneath the cypress tree. The other child was carried far into the dust to grow among strangers and silence, his name whispered only in dreams.
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Fiction
The Shadows of Greenhall
_Part One: The Dance of Light and Shadows in Greenhall_ The autumn air of the outskirts carried the scent of damp earth and fallen yellow leaves, caressing the tall windows of Greenhall Manor. Its stone walls, once adorned with the grandeur of carved stones and vibrant paintings, now bore cracks and faded colors, whispering a silent tale of years steeped in solitude. Amid this heavy stillness sat Liovna, her golden hair shimmering like silk threads in the candlelight. Her white dress, with its delicate lace trim and voluminous sleeves, seemed to have stepped out of a distant dream into this cold room. The simple gold necklace at her throat—her only memento from her mother—trembled faintly with each breath.
By Vafa Abbasi4 months ago in Fiction
Topaz
Pakhraj had been busy decorating the room for her future distinguished guest, doing everything herself. But when she received news that the Minister of Culture, Mr. Malik Aman Khan, would be her guest the following night, she spared no effort in offering the finest hospitality. Yet, deep down, she wished that this new visitor would eventually leave her room empty and sad.
By Syed Shahkar jalal 4 months ago in Fiction
The Bells of Black Street
The Bells of Black Street The year was 1832, and the city stank of death. A damp fog rolled in before dawn, thick as wool, curling around chimneys and spilling through the alleys. Beneath it, the cobbled streets glistened with grime, the gutters overflowed, and the air hung heavy with fear. Mothers pressed cloth to their children’s faces, fathers went to work with trembling hands, and everyone whispered the same word that made even the strong turn pale — plague.
By Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Fiction
A Day In The Life of a Citizen of Indus Valley Civilization
The sun rises gently over the rooftops of Mohenjo-Daro, painting the baked clay bricks in shades of orange and rose. I wake up to the sound of a copper pot clinging against the well's stone lip, my mother is already drawing water, the first task of every morning.
By Manahil Fatima4 months ago in Fiction
The Forgotten Empire: The Rise and Fall of Mesopotamia
When we think about human history, we often picture grand empires like Rome, Persia, or Egypt. But long before them, a land between two rivers—the Tigris and Euphrates—birthed something far more profound: the first organized civilization known to mankind—Mesopotamia.
By Shohel Rana4 months ago in Fiction
The Last Rain in Bulawayo. AI-Generated.
Bulawayo, 1998 — a city of sunburned streets and restless winds, where the scent of dust and diesel hung heavy in the air. In the township of Mzilikazi, two brothers grew up chasing the same dream but running from different ghosts.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
