Script
Common and Special
A king was passing through a village on horseback, leading a caravan of horses. As they rode along a narrow dirt path, they passed a group of Gujari women carrying earthen pots filled with milk and curd on their heads. The horses hooves thundered against the ground, the clatter of the hooves and the winds force caused the fragile clay pots to fall and shatter, spilling their contents into the dust. The young women collapsed to the ground, crying over their loss.
By Nikita Angelabout a year ago in Fiction
Eternal Journey
The rain drummed gently against the windowpane as Alex sat at the old oak desk, a half-written letter before him. The dim glow of the study lamp cast soft shadows on the pages, its flickering light reflecting the uncertainty in his heart.
By Niranjon Chandra Royabout a year ago in Fiction
The Shadow That Never Left
. The rain poured down like an endless waterfall, making it difficult to see beyond a few feet. The GPS on his phone flickered, struggling to maintain a signal. He was heading towards a remote village, one that had been the subject of countless ghost stories and unspeakable tragedies.
By Killing Mission about a year ago in Fiction
The Great Goat Escape
Once upon a time in the small town of Maplewood, there lived a mischievous goat named Gary. Now, Gary wasn’t just any ordinary goat. He had a talent for escaping from any enclosure known to man. The townspeople often joked that he must have been a magician in his past life. His owner, Old Man Jenkins, had tried everything to keep Gary contained—fences, locks, even an electric perimeter (which only ended up giving Jenkins himself a nasty shock).
By AMINUL ISLAM ZIHADabout a year ago in Fiction
Jason Vs Mr.Violence Vs Maniac Cop Reboot
Chapter 1: A Night to Remember In the heart of Manhattan, chaos erupted inside the 15th precinct as sirens blared and frantic voices weaved through the darkness. Special Agent Raphael "Jimmy" Jameson was on a special assignment, liaising with the New York City Police Department. The night had set in, but little did he know that this would become more than just another routine operation.
By Victor Robinson IIabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Letter
The ancient oak tree stood firm at the meadow's edge, its branches reaching out like the hands of an old friend. Eleanor sat in its shade, shaking a yellowed envelope. The handwriting was unmistakable—stylish, unique, and clear. Fifty years. That’s how long it had been since James walked out one crisp autumn morning, promising to return but never did.
By Mirza Afzal Baigabout a year ago in Fiction
