Historical

My Husband Died Twice—Once in the Hospital, Once in Our Bedroom
The first time my husband died, there were machines all around him. They spoke softly, rhythmically, as if they were trying to convince everyone in the room that life was still going on. The doctor spoke in careful sentences, the nurses avoided my eyes, and I stood there holding his hand, waiting for something to change.
By Echoes of Life12 days ago in Fiction
Mental Disturbia
"James dear, would you say that you believe the school of though, that those who are more creative are also more likely to have poor mental health. It is said that the greatest artists have the greatest internal battles, the best musicians have the biggest heartbreaks, and so on. However, is this true"?
By Antoni De'Leon12 days ago in Fiction
The Hundred-Year Awakening: A Monologue from an Old Umbrella
Esteemed Reader, Have you ever looked at an old, forgotten object in your home—perhaps a chipped teacup, a faded kimono, or a dusty old fan—and wondered about its story? In Japan, we have a belief that after a hundred years of loyal service, an inanimate object can gain a soul, transforming into a Tsukumogami (付喪神). They aren't malicious spirits, but rather gentle, often melancholic entities, imbued with the memories and experiences of their owners.
By Takashi Nagaya13 days ago in Fiction
When London Held Its Breath
London woke to a silence it hadn’t known in years. Snow had fallen overnight, thick and slow, as if the city itself had held its breath. The streets were muffled, the usual grime softened into white. The Thames moved quietly, reflecting the sky like a sheet of smoke, and the neon signs of Soho glowed dimly, blurred through falling flakes.
By Aarish13 days ago in Fiction
Baba Vanga Predictions for 2026
Baba Vanga Predictions for 2026 Baba Vanga remains one of the most fascinating figures in the world of prophecy. Though blind from childhood, she saw further than most people could imagine. Her name has become a symbol of mystery, a whisper passed between believers and skeptics whenever the world feels uncertain. For decades, her visions have been revisited each time a new disaster unfolds, as if her words continue to echo through time.
By Marie381Uk 13 days ago in Fiction
Waiting Room
“Is this seat taken?” “No, go ahead.” “Thanks. It’s colder in here than I expected.” “They keep it that way.” “You come here often?”
By Sound and Spirit13 days ago in Fiction
1960’s Out Side Loo
How often do we take for granted the comfort of the things we have in 2020? I remember my childhood and visiting my aunty and uncles with my Mam. I also have memories of living with my granddad in an old two-bedroom terraced house, the worst memory being the outside toilet (the loo to the younger readers). In some places we would visit, Mum would tell me beforehand, “Don't ask to go to the toilet; it's bloody filthy in there. You will catch something.”
By Marie381Uk 13 days ago in Fiction
Nine Dreams of Anguish
Prologue I thought I’d never go to sleep again. I’ve heard these stories circulating in nines all over the earth;
By Moon Desert14 days ago in Fiction
The Morning Walk
“Did you see the sunrise today?” “Not really. I was half asleep.” “It was golden. Made me think we should get out earlier.”
By Sound and Spirit14 days ago in Fiction
The Name He Would Not Say
“Do you want to start where you usually start or where it hurts today.” “It all hurts. I just pick the one that hurts loudest.”
By Sound and Spirit15 days ago in Fiction
Blood on the Red Mesa
Sheriff Silas Boone rode slowly along the trail at the base of Red Mesa, the sun dipping behind the cliffs, setting the desert ablaze in red and orange. Dust brushed around his boots and spurs, and his horse sneezed.
By Natasha Collazo15 days ago in Fiction
The Rise of Iron North
In the Empire of Zhuyan, the firstborn prince was a shadow in his own palace. His name was Lián Feng, son of Emperor Zhuyan Long and his first consort, Lady Mei Lin—a woman the world pretended to forget.
By Aries Mimsy15 days ago in Fiction