Fiction

By Ankita P. R. The leaves of spring blossoms withered, while hazy clouds wept as though they had never known the regiment of pain. The mighty fire grew to flames, trembling at the beauty life dared to hold. Water, ever traumatized by the sun, traced deep, shallow paths, never to be seen again. The motherland, which carried all of life, was broken and dying, longing for the part of existence where hurtful truths and sweet lies might coexist, where the cruel epitome of life’s

By Zoe Parra El dolor me está comiendo viva, y la verdad es que no me da miedo llegar a la muerte. La verdad es que dejar este mundo es mejor que vivir en él como yo lo hago. Mi vida es hermosa—es tan hermosa que alguien como yo no tiene derecho a vivirla. Eran ya pasadas las doce de la madrugada y yo no podía respirar. Aquella angustia que llega con la caída del sol se asomaba con el brillo de la luna por una ventana. Una ventana que exponía todo de mí. Mis temores, mis llan

By Rebekah Booth Master’s command settles fast into my bones and my heart sings. The fur on my belly scrapes the mossy ground as I shoot through the undergrowth like a rocket. I can smell blood in the air, a trail I will follow to the inch. Autumn has settled into the woods, and Master has found game .  I lose sight of my Master quickly, swallowed by the dense trees. The stink of wet earth and rot fight to overpower the tang of iron. I skid to a stop and raise my proud nose t

By Sarah De Caen She came to the river every morning, drawn to its quiet hum. No one else seemed to notice it — the curve of the water, the way the sun caught the ripples like liquid gold. One morning, she saw a boat waiting on the bank. Small, simple, carved from dark wood. A man sat inside, waiting. “Which way will you go?” he asked, voice soft, yet urgent. She hesitated. The river split ahead — one path shadowed, winding, the other bright, calm, yet uncertain. She felt the

By Sarah de Caen It began like any other Tuesday. Fluorescent lights hummed above her, sharp and white. She stood in the supermarket queue, tired, scrolling through her phone, when a man behind her said quietly, “Two-four-four.” She turned. He was older, his face kind but distant, eyes amber like autumn. “Sorry?” she asked. The man smiled faintly. “You’ll remember.” Then he walked away, no groceries, no goodbye — just gone. Her stomach tightened. She didn’t know why, but the

By Divya Behl Seventh October, Two Thousand Twenty-Five. After an arduous journey from my homeland, I arrived at Dunsinane Hill, the seat...

By Divya Behl Blood slicked the dirt beneath him, pooling in the gaps like ink on parchment paper. Major Arjun Rathore clutched his side,...

By Divya Behl The sun was setting over the village of Piplantri in Rajasthan, casting a warm, orange glow over the fields. The air...

By Divya Behl Last Saturday, I walked into BlueSky Mall with 120 rupees, solely meant for a milkshake, and exactly zero plans to meet the...

By Sudhansu Thongam The world is divided: great powers on one side, and lesser nations on the other. Among the giants stands ALTA, ally...

By Yashna Jalan "You can verify by holding my wrist, you know."  The doctor looks at me as if I'm a silly, moth-eaten teddy bear;...

By Animisha Saxena Alas, the mage of wine, love, and entice settles to wait for yet another dawn. Of late, in her country, the days have...

By Kiarash Karimian Dowlatabad The speculation surrounding Rick Jones held a kernel of truth. In fact, Rick had served as a Pentagon...

By Kiarash Karimian Dowlatabad In the dimly lit corner of a small bar on Frank Sinatra Street in Las Vegas, an elderly Asian man sat...

By Kiarash Karimian Dowlatabad Avazollah They say life in the village toughens you up. And if you're born among nomads, Darwin’s law of...

By Paislee Helle The sun beamed down hot on my forehead making me hyper aware of how my body felt under such warmth. Dominantly, I...

By Thomas George I was born into a family of traditional healers, inheritors of ancient scripts and secret remedies passed down through...

By Sukumar Ruj A government statutory warning in a newspaper: Do not walk in direct sunlight unnecessarily.  Use an umbrella or head...

By Sukumar Ruj I sat down on the veranda, and suddenly, the rain came pouring down. Unconsciously, I started humming a tune:  ‘Come,...

By Sukumar Ruj   “Hi gentlemen! Can I get two rupees? I wanna feed my kids?”      A young woman in her torn saree , torn blouse covering...