Classical
The Boy Who Collected Blue Things. AI-Generated.
He said blue made him feel calm. His backpack, his pens, even his phone case — all blue. He told me once that he collected the color because it reminded him of summer skies, and summer was the only time his parents didn’t fight.
By James Taylor4 months ago in Fiction
The Train I Almost Missed. AI-Generated.
The 7:45 train was late again — just like it always was on Mondays. The platform was crowded with tired faces and the smell of burnt coffee. Everyone looked impatient, as if being late was the greatest tragedy of their day.
By shakir hamid4 months ago in Fiction
Beyond the Door
In a quiet village in Norfolk, an old cottage stood near the edge of the fields. The sea breeze often reached it, carrying the smell of salt and damp wood. In the southern room of the house, there was a door that was never fully closed. It always stayed half open, as if someone had left it like that on purpose, or simply forgotten to shut it.
By Mansoor Afaq4 months ago in Fiction
Overcoat of Ghulam Abbas
On a January evening, a well-dressed young man walked down Davis Road, turned onto Mall Road, and began strolling leisurely along the tramline toward Charing Cross. From his appearance, he looked quite fashionable: neatly trimmed long sideburns, shiny hair, and thin mustaches so fine they seemed drawn with a kohl stick. He wore a light brown overcoat with a pale rose tucked into the buttonhole, a green flat hat tilted stylishly on his head, and a white silk scarf wrapped neatly around his neck. One hand rested in his coat pocket, the other held a small cane which he twirled playfully from time to time.
By Mansoor Afaq4 months ago in Fiction
