Classical

Milk and cookies . Content Warning.
The thing about Christmas Eve is that it always smells the same. No matter where you are—apartment, house, shelter, hospital—the air carries that faint mixture of pine, sugar, and old heat. Even places that haven’t seen a tree in years seem to remember the scent. Like muscle memory. Like guilt.
By E. hasan3 months ago in Fiction
The Cinder’s Weight
The hearth has stopped its singing.white-ribbed and glowing with a soft, pulsing ache. I am watching the last flame— a tiny, blue-tongued ghost licking the underside of a charred knot. It is fragile, a translucent ribbon fraying against the weight of the coming dark. There is a specific silence that lives here For hours, it was a roar of gold and defiance, consuming the dry cedar of our history, the splinters of every word we ever threw into the heat to keep the room alive. But the wood is spent now. The logs have collapsed into a skeletal geography,
By Awa Nyassi3 months ago in Fiction
The Piano With Three Missing Keys 🎹
The piano stood against the far wall of the living room, its dark wood dulled by time and sunlight. Three keys were missing from the middle — not broken, not stuck, simply gone. In their place were narrow gaps, like teeth lost to years of careful use.
By Zidane3 months ago in Fiction
THE ARCHITECTURE OF DARK: RITUAL WINTER
The world doe not die in winter, simply holds its breath. Where I live, the transition isn't a gradual slide, but a sharp snap. One morning, you wake up and the air has changed. It no longer smells of damp earth and rotting leaves; it smells of nothing at all. It is a clean, sterile cold that reaches into your lungs and reminds you that you are made of water and warmth—two things the frost wants to take back.
By Awa Nyassi3 months ago in Fiction
The last message . AI-Generated.
I woke up to the familiar buzz of my phone. At first, I thought it was just another notification from a friend or one of those annoying app alerts. But when I unlocked it, my heart skipped a beat.
By Evxian Zx4 months ago in Fiction
The Taj Mahal
The Taj Mahal I did not expect it to feel so quiet. Not silent, just calm in a way that made my chest slow down without asking. The Taj Mahal stood there as if it had been waiting, not for crowds or cameras, but for someone willing to look beyond the shine. White marble catching the light, not showing off, simply being present. I realised then this place was not built to impress the world. It was built to hold a feeling that refused to disappear.
By George’s Girl 2026 4 months ago in Fiction
Life Lessons from Panchatantra Stories
Most of us grew up reading Aesop’s fables, but you may or may not have heard of the Panchatantra, a collection of ancient Indian stories. I learned the five tantras of the Panchatantra are: Mitra-bheda (The Loss of Friends), Mitra-lābha (The Gaining of Friends), Kākolūkīyam (War and Peace), Labdhapraṇāśam (Loss of Gains), and Aparīkṣitakārakam (Ill-considered Actions).
By Seema Patel4 months ago in Fiction
The Bench at the End of Pine Street 🪑
The Bench at the End of Pine Street At the very end of Pine Street, where the houses thinned and the road stopped pretending it had somewhere important to go, there was a bench.
By Zidane4 months ago in Fiction
Akatsuki Members as War Justifications
The beauty of anime is really in the details, to some it might just seem as cartoons but for the open minds, there is so much hidden in the details. Here is an interesting twist in the popular anime Naruto you might have missed, for those who might not know the Akatsuki were the main villain group the heroes were fighting against and throughout the series they had to take them down one after the other. The writer of this show didn’t just create a villain group made up of thugs out for violence, he put much more thought into their character than you might have realized.
By real Jema4 months ago in Fiction
Alice in Reality
“Good evening, this is Doctor Hightopp, how can I help you?” “Yes, hello Doctor. This is the chief of police, Bill Gryphon. I’m calling on behalf of one of your patients, a Ms. Alice Liddell.”
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
Alice in Reality
As Alice staggered to the back, she couldn’t help but feel everyone was glancing at her and whispering about her. She saw odd sideways glances and a low murmur of secret voices throughout the bus. She didn’t recognize anyone on the bus and had no idea what all the whispering could be about. Alice huddled herself into a small ball in the back of the bus and proceeded to look out the window and ignore her fellow passengers. She pulled out the cookie in her hand and wondered if it would even work in his land. Perhaps it was worth a try if it would keep everyone from looking at her so suspiciously. She popped the cookie in her mouth and chewed slowly. As she did the glances and whispers started to fade, as if she faded from view of all the other passengers.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction
Alice in Reality
Alice sat comfortably in the crook of the cement troll’s arm, listening to the traffic zip by on the overpass overhead. Without looking into the bag, she reached down for another Cheeto before popping it in her mouth.
By Leah Suzanne Dewey4 months ago in Fiction