Omid khan

Joined January 2026

38 stories

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Stories (38)

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Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves
Ali Baba was a poor woodcutter who lived on the edge of a small dusty village beside a long desert road. His home was made of old wood and cracked clay, and when the wind blew, sand slipped through the walls like quiet rain. Life had never been easy for him. Every morning before the sky turned golden, Ali Baba tied his worn sandals, lifted his old axe onto his shoulder, and walked deep into the forest to cut firewood.
By Omid khanabout 8 hours ago in Fiction
How I Turned My Life Around After Hitting Rock Bottom
I never imagined I would find myself in a dark abyss, a place so deep that even the smallest glimmer of hope seemed utterly unreachable. Yet, life has a relentless way of humbling us, and I reached the lowest point of my existence. The journey to recovery was gruelling, painful, and slow, but looking back now, I realize that every setback was a stepping stone toward the life I live today.
By Omid khana day ago in Fiction
Rise Beyond Limits
Every morning, I woke up feeling like the weight of the world rested on my shoulders. Bills piled up, deadlines loomed, and every failure from yesterday whispered in my ear. For years, I let fear dictate my choices. I settled for comfort instead of growth, routine instead of purpose, and excuses instead of action.
By Omid khana day ago in Poets
My Dead Father Sent Me a Voice Message at 2:13 AM — And It Exposed the Darkest Secret of Digital Immortality
The last message arrived at 2:13 AM. Not a notification. Not a call. A voice note. From my father. My hands froze. My father had been dead for three years.
By Omid khana day ago in Fiction
The Last Message From the Future
The last message was sent after the city went silent It started with a power flicker. Not enough to shut things down. Just enough to remind everyone how fragile the system really was.
By Omid khan2 days ago in Fiction
The Key You Never Noticed Was Watching You
Dear Sleeper, You’ve been walking past it every day, thinking it’s nothing, thinking it’s just another piece of the house. But I’ve been watching, and I know what you do not. I know how you ignore it. I know how you pretend it doesn’t matter. And yet it matters more than anything you have ever held in your hands.
By Omid khan2 days ago in Fiction
The Hidden Notes in the Old Bookstore That Healed a Broken Heart
The rain fell in soft, relentless sheets over the cobblestone streets of the city, washing the world in shades of gray. Julian walked aimlessly, his coat pulled tight around his thin frame, the ache in his chest heavy and unyielding. A month had passed since Mara had left him, leaving behind only the hollow echo of laughter and the remnants of a love he thought would last forever. His friends tried to console him, offering platitudes and advice, but their words fell flat. Nothing seemed to pierce the fog of grief that wrapped around him.
By Omid khan2 days ago in Poets
The Night My Father Saved Me Without Knowing
used to believe silence was the natural language between fathers and sons. In our house, words were tools for survival—used sparingly, only when necessary. My father, Kareem, was a man of early mornings and tired eyes, of rough hands that smelled like engine oil and cold winter air. He worked at the railway depot, fixing machines that carried other people forward while he stayed rooted in the same small life.
By Omid khan2 days ago in Families
The Stranger Who Paid for My Groceries and Changed My Future
I was standing in line at the grocery store, counting coins in my palm like they might magically multiply if I believed hard enough.
By Omid khan3 days ago in Fiction
One Secret From My Mother in Law Changed Everything Between Us
I never imagined that a simple visit to my mother-in-law’s house would alter the course of my marriage. Her house was quaint, tucked away at the edge of town, the kind of place that seemed frozen in time. It smelled faintly of lavender and old books, the air heavy with memories. I had always loved visiting her, though our relationship had been cordial rather than warm. She was a woman of few words but with a sharp mind and an aura of quiet authority.
By Omid khan3 days ago in Families
The Unshakable Joy of My Dog: A Story of Love, Loyalty, and the Purest Happiness
The wind was sharp that evening. Leaves danced across the empty streets as if running from an unseen fear. Zara walked alone, her hands deep in her pockets, eyes fixed on the ground. She had left the café quickly, leaving her coffee half-finished. Did she want to escape the awkward conversation, or was it the memory that clung to her mind?
By Omid khan3 days ago in Poets
Ahmed Tried to Help the Driver — and Ended Up Breaking the Car
Ahmadullah Shinwari had spent most of his life in a quiet village where the loudest sound was the wind brushing through wheat fields and the call of roosters at dawn. Horses, donkeys, and old wooden carts were the only ways people traveled. To him, the world beyond the mountains felt like a story from another universe.
By Omid khan4 days ago in Fiction