Classical
The Ghost on the Map: My 2,000-Mile Journey to a Paris That Isn’t There
If you type "Paris" into Google Maps, the algorithm will dutifully drop a pin on the City of Light. It will show you the winding Seine, the star-shaped sprawl of the Place de l’Étoile, and enough crêperies to feed a small army.
By George Evanabout 17 hours ago in Fiction
The Lantern in the Fog
The fog settled over the village like a blanket soaked in silence. At first it was gentle, wrapping the streets in a quiet hush. But as night deepened, it thickened into something heavier, almost alive, crawling along the cobblestones and slipping into the cracks of every home. It was not the kind of fog that simply blurred the edges of things. This fog carried a chill that touched the marrow, a weight that pressed on the heart, and whispered doubts in voices that sounded eerily familiar.
By Sound and Spirit2 days ago in Fiction
Still Life with Woman
Despite my youth and supposed good health, I had recently felt under the weather. In recent days, to be precise, I had felt my body slowly seizing up, heavier. It started in my fingers and toes: a loss of the freedom of movement expected for those digits at the extremities of my healthy body. Not exactly painful, but neither was it a piece of cake. After a day of that, I retired to bed, expecting to wake fully refreshed and better the next day.
By Paul Stewart4 days ago in Fiction
Patriots. Expatriates.
The white china cup clattered against the serving plate as the train hit a soft bump. He stared glassy-eyed as the coffee within swirled. Mountains flitted by his window, their gray dominance only interrupted by the lush green landscape at their base.
By Matthew J. Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
The Sun Who Envied The Moon
Do you ever wish you were like someone else? Wish you had that dream life, that dream car, that loving family? I wish I was like the moon, she sees the real side of people, when humans are at their most vulnerable they turn to the moon like an old friend. People only talk to me when they’re “happy” but usually they are just faking it.
By Christian Sanchez4 days ago in Fiction
Sisyphus’ Punishment
I’ve been doing this for three thousand years. At least that's what I estimate, more or less. Can’t tell more precisely because I lost count of days and nights. With this job, you would too, anyone would. Yes, I have to roll this huge rock up not only during the day but at night, too. Up and down, up and down. I roll it up, almost all the way to the top, it rolls down under its weight and I have to start over.
By Lana V Lynx5 days ago in Fiction
Good Deeds Are Never Wasted
Centuries ago, in the vast lands of India, there was a powerful Maharaja who ruled over many territories. This king was known far and wide for his cruelty. He often acted on whims and would have his ministers executed for the smallest mistakes or disagreements. Fear gripped the hearts of everyone in his court. However, among the ministers, there was one who stood out—not for his power or cunning, but for his wisdom, fairness, and compassion. This minister treated the people with kindness, helped the needy, and always acted justly.
By Sudais Zakwan5 days ago in Fiction
