Historical
Voices Behind the Walls
Voices Behind the Walls When Elina first moved into the old brick apartment building on Willow Street, she thought the constant creaks and groans were just the building settling. The rent had been low, and the location was perfect—quiet, near her work, and close enough to the park where she liked to run in the mornings. But by the end of her first week, Elina realized the walls were speaking to her in ways she couldn’t ignore.
By Abdul Muhammad 5 months ago in Fiction
The Knock That Shattered My World
As a bookworm, I read all the books on the shelf, both appropriate and not for my age. That morning, I woke up hoping to find a new story hiding in a paperback. Mom was heating water for tea, and there were still cookies left on the plate. The warm, sweet smell of shortbread made the kitchen feel cozy. Life was good! We felt peaceful. I was happy.
By Nina Domricheva5 months ago in Fiction
The Haunted Mansion
The Haunted Mansion The mansion stands at the edge of the lane. Its walls are high and cold, its roof bends with age, and ivy crawls across the stone like veins upon old skin. No birds fly above it. No dogs bark near its gates. The windows are blind. The doors are forever shut. People cross the road rather than walk past, for all know what waits inside.
By Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Fiction
Edging God Out
By touching the door of the classroom with his hand, Tory Vale felt one life leave and another enter. He wore a black blazer and white t-shirt black jeans and blue loafers. Back in that lecture hall in New Sweden University in Wilmington, Delaware, he had laid down the burden of faith. He walked out a nonbeliever in the theory of God. Although he had aced every exam, there still felt in the wood grain of the door the need to recall that he would never be the same A student. In his twenty-two-year-old mind, he recalled the various texts he consumed like a voracious predator on the hunt. The carnivore in his soul began to cry out in every word that went through his brain. There existed this duality that said “Go with God” and “Edging God Out” (EGO).
By Skyler Saunders5 months ago in Fiction
Sanam Khana-e-Khayal (The Temple of Imagination)
🌹 The Temple of Imagination Beginning In the dim light of dusk, a young man sat lost in a world of thoughts. Outside the window, the branches of trees swayed with the wind, as if sharing in the restlessness of his heart. His name was Arsalan. From childhood, he had been quiet, a man of a different temperament. Unlike others, the noise, games, and clamor of the world never appealed to him. His joy was always found in solitude, in books, and in poetry.
By New stAr writer 5 months ago in Fiction
The Whispering Trail
Lena tugged her jacket tighter against the crisp autumn breeze as she stepped onto the old forest trail. The leaves beneath her boots crackled like tiny secrets, and shafts of gold light filtered through the boughs overhead. She paused, closing her eyes, listening — there was a faint murmur in the hush, as though the woods themselves breathed.
By Shohel Rana5 months ago in Fiction
The Knock in the Night
The air outside was heavy with the metallic scent of smoke, the remnants of fire still clinging to the broken city like a shroud. My mother, only five years old at the time, woke in the middle of the night to the silence after the bombing. That silence was the most terrifying part. The roar of engines, the sharp whistle of falling bombs, the thunder of explosions—those had become familiar, almost expected. But when the world grew quiet, when the sky held its breath, she knew something worse might be coming.
By Dagmar Goeschick5 months ago in Fiction
