Script
The horrifying bright yellow
The horrifying bright yellow ”They are down there in the water. I noticed multiple flashes of brilliant yellow shooting out from and then receding down below the surface, only to rise up again in a regular pattern. Like a dancing routine. Brightly yellow and lethal. Are they ridiculing us? The decaying, delicious odor of death is still trapped in my nose. We are locked here, and people are losing their minds.’
By QuirkTalesabout a year ago in Fiction
Fastest Spoon
[Interior, Old Western Tavern, Day] The area is filled with a number of men and women all dressed in traditional western gear. Loud music is played by a gentleman at a piano. There is a game of Poker being played in the corner. Talking, laughing and singing can all be heard.
By Jared van Eschabout a year ago in Fiction
A Love Beyond Words
In the vibrant town of Sonargaon, known for its ancient heritage and serene rivers, lived Alisha, a young woman whose beauty was as captivating as the morning sun reflecting off a calm lake. But Alisha's allure was not confined to her physical appearance alone. Her kindness, intelligence, and infectious laughter made her the heart of the community.
By Mirhadi Tahsinabout a year ago in Fiction
What Happens When We Forget Humanity?
Humanity: The Light of Our Hearts 🌟 Humanity is the purest reflection of love and kindness in this world. It’s the ability to care for one another, to lift others when they fall, and to see the beauty in differences. Humanity isn’t just about being human—it’s about being humane. It’s the gentle hug to someone in pain, the helping hand to a stranger, and the silent prayer for someone you’ve never met.
By Tulsiverseabout a year ago in Fiction
The Ghost in the Shadows
It's now late. The pulsating heartbeat of the city can be heard through the fissures in the pavement, pulsating against the walls of buildings that have witnessed more deaths than lives. Through the shroud of cigarette smoke that envelops me like a comfortable cloak, I am able to hear the buzz of neon lights flashing all around me. I inhale deeply, the smoke enveloping my lungs and escaping into the darkness, leaving behind a taste of remorse and experiences from the past.
By QuirkTalesabout a year ago in Fiction
The Whispering Willow and the Lost Melody
Once upon a time, nestled beside a babbling brook, stood an ancient willow tree. Its branches, long and weeping, touched the ground like the arms of a tired old man. This wasn’t just any willow; it was said to whisper secrets to those who listened closely. Many villagers claimed it held the lost melodies of their ancestors, songs sung long ago and now forgotten.
By Mirhadi Tahsinabout a year ago in Fiction
Letters to Yesterday-A Love Story
In the heart of an old European village, nestled between cobblestone streets and ivy-draped cottages, stood a forgotten post office. Its wooden doors creaked with age, and its brass mailbox gleamed faintly under the weight of years. The villagers had long since embraced modern technology, leaving behind the quaint charm of handwritten letters. Yet, hidden within its dusty shelves were hundreds of unsent letters, their ink faded but their words brimming with longing.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
A Symphony of Souls
In the heart of Vienna, where cobblestone streets hummed with the echoes of centuries-old music, lived Clara Weiss, a gifted violinist. Her music was her language, speaking the words she could never voice. Each note she played told stories of longing and hope, resonating through the grand halls of the conservatory where she practiced endlessly. Yet, despite the applause and admiration, Clara's soul felt incomplete, as if a missing melody lingered just beyond her reach.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
The Stranger's Game
Rain hammered against the cracked windows of the old tavern, its wooden frame groaning under the weight of the storm. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and whispered conversations. In the corner, by the hearth's dying embers, sat a man cloaked in shadows. His face was obscured, but his presence demanded attention. A deck of worn cards lay on the table before him, edges frayed by time.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Door
In the heart of a desolate mountain range stood an ancient fortress, long abandoned and eroded by centuries of wind and snow. Legend spoke of a hidden chamber within, sealed by the last door—a portal none dared open. For generations, adventurers had searched for it, driven by whispers of untold power and eternal knowledge. None had returned.
By Himansu Kumar Routrayabout a year ago in Fiction
