Classical
Across The Merderet. Runner-Up in Parallel Lives Challenge.
I sped off to the recruiting post in Galena. Even though my birth certificate at St. Michaels said that Joseph F. Higgins was Born 1927 not 1926 like I told the recruiter, I wasn’t going to let that one year stop me. Hell or high water I was going to be a paratrooper.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 months ago in Fiction
The Last Message from Tokyo: A Wrong Number That Saved My Life
The Last Message from Tokyo It was snowing again that night in Tokyo. The city looked quiet, almost sacred, beneath the streetlights. From the rooftop of my small apartment, I could see trains sliding like silver veins through the darkness. I had been in Japan for two years, studying engineering, but lately I felt more like a ghost than a student.
By Nimatullah6 months ago in Fiction
The Man Who Spoke to the Night. AI-Generated.
They said he only came out after midnight. In a city that never slept, Noctis Varen was the quiet pulse between the ticking hours — a man of silence, a shadow among neon lights. He ran a small photography shop near the harbor, open from dusk till dawn. Most people thought it strange, but he said the world only shows its truth at night.
By shakir hamid6 months ago in Fiction
The Day I Decided the Universe Was Listening
For most of my life, I thought positive thinking was a polite way of denying reality. People who said “you attract what you believe” seemed to live in a fantasy world. Meanwhile, I was stuck in mine — overworked, underpaid, and constantly anxious. I wasn’t unhappy because I lacked things; I was unhappy because I believed I didn’t deserve more.
By Atif khurshaid6 months ago in Fiction
The Shelter of Urban Decay?
You know the address. You know where "that" area is. What do you call it? The ghetto? The bad neighborhood? Gangsta's Paradise? Was it you who said, "I wouldn't be caught dead there?" Yeah. I was morbidly curious, but that's not how I got there.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman6 months ago in Fiction
The Day the World Went Quiet. AI-Generated.
It happened on a Tuesday — the kind of Tuesday you forget as soon as it ends. Until you don’t. I woke up and the world was... silent. Not metaphorically — literally. No cars outside. No dogs barking. Not even the hum of the refrigerator that usually filled the space between my thoughts.
By James Taylor6 months ago in Fiction









