Life
The Night It Was Read
She was excited. Her hair up in rolos as she slid on the boots her mother had only let her borrow for this special occasion. At fifteen, she had just begun to branch out–making friends, building a life that was all her own. Her best friend, Ruth, had just moved to Oregon, and her absence was a new kind of desperation–one that longed for intimacy and made her reach for new people, new experiences. The phone rang. “Ma! Pick up–pick up! I’m taking off the pinchos! These stupid rolos won’t come off!” She stomped around her room, arms twisted overhead, tugging at her hair in every direction. From the kitchen, her mother shouted, “He’s coming up now. Apúrate and put on your coat. It’s cold and rainy. Llévate la sombrilla–and don’t lose this one. You always lose the nice umbrellas and then-” “Yessss, Ma! Ya–ya! I got it. Can you open the door, please?!” At that moment, a knock traveled through the apartment. Her mother opened the door. From the bedroom, Allie heard the high, bright voice her mother saved for people from church. Finally, her hair came free. She slid on the brown leather jacket her cousin Farrah had given her before moving into her own apartment. She loved it when Farrah gave her things and used them only for special occasions. “Alexandra! ¿Ya?” her mother called from the door. Allie stepped out and walked toward the door. “Ya. I’m ready.” She smiled shyly. “Hola, Rafael. Sorry, I took so long.”
By K.R. Reyna6 days ago in Writers
I Kept Everyone Together Until No One Noticed Me Falling Apart
I was the one people called when things went wrong. When families argued, I became the bridge. When friends stopped talking, I translated silence into forgiveness. When someone needed a reminder that everything would be okay, I offered it without checking if I believed it myself.
By Salman Writes7 days ago in Writers
Writing for Those Who Have No Voice
Elizabeth Woods' Cedar's Port series on Amazon.com https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQRNST2B Hey there, my name is Lizzy and I am an author. I have been writing stories for as long as I can remember. Writing for me began as an escape from my reality. I grew up in an abusive and traumatizing environment. I was suppressed and mute until I broke away in my teens.
By Elizabeth Woods7 days ago in Writers
About BTS Tickets
It has come to our understanding that alot of us have to wait for what is going on within the tickets for the BTS concert. Some us was fortunate while others was in the grip of scalpers and scammers taking money and also taking tickets and doubling the price. As what I'm expericing in Threads and other social media it's like this year they had doubled time in our chances to even see them wonderful seven men . I was doubting my feelings of it will be easy ,but wasn't really.
By Erica Williams7 days ago in Writers
Essence, Embodiment, and Relational Reality
The Failure of Reduction and the Need for Synthesis There is a persistent failure in many modern attempts to explain what a human being is. Some frameworks reduce the person entirely to matter, insisting that identity, consciousness, morality, and meaning are nothing more than emergent properties of physical processes. Other frameworks move in the opposite direction, detaching spirit from reason and grounding belief in intuition alone, often at the cost of coherence or accountability. Both approaches fail because both misunderstand essence. One denies that essence exists at all. The other treats it as something vague and undefinable.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast7 days ago in Writers
Farah’s Silent Battle: A 17-Year-Old’s Journey Through Loss and Survival in Gaza
On January 19, 2026, in Gaza City, a young girl named Farah Mahmoud al-Kahlud stood before the world, showing the eye she had lost in a brutal attack on her home in Jabalia. At just 17 years old, Farah’s life has been irreversibly altered. In that single moment of violence, she lost not only her leg and her eye but also her parents—the pillars of her childhood and the guardians of her future. What remains is a teenager caught between unbearable grief, physical pain, and the uncertainty of survival in one of the harshest humanitarian crises of our time.
By Salman Writes8 days ago in Writers
