Tag: Short Story
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The Darkness, and the City
The darkness hadn’t arrived suddenly. It had taken root long ago—quietly, insistently—until it shaped everything. Her choices. Her silences. A broken marriage. Disappointed parents. The hollow weight of conversations that ended, inevitably, in those same tired words: “You’re so capable. Why don’t you do something with your life?” She used to smile—a twitch of the…
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A Crescent Over Granada
A Sunset, a Stranger, and the Alchemy of Travel I arrived in Granada by train from Madrid, the soft rumble of the rails still humming in my bones as I checked into my hostel. The usual chorus of “hi, hello, where are you from?” echoed through the shared dorm room as I met my temporary…
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Don’t Break Me Again (part 3)
Waterfall series The rain softened into a mist, the storm easing as quickly as it had come. But the storm between them lingered, quieter now, like the hush after thunder. They stood there, held in each other’s arms, as if letting go would tear open the wound again. Her fingers unclenched from his shirt slowly,…
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The Path Back to You (final part)
The last of the waterfall series They walked back from the waterfall in near silence, side by side, the world hushed around them. The path felt different now—softer somehow, as if the earth itself understood the weight of what had just passed between them. The night smelled of rain, wildflowers, and the damp earth underfoot.…
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The weight of returning (part2)
Part 2 of waterfall series She walked away, her footsteps soft against the grass, the fireflies settling again as if nothing had disturbed them. But everything inside her was disturbed. Her chest felt tight, breath shallow, as if she’d been holding it since she’d first heard his voice. The night swallowed her figure, but she…
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Get yourself together!
Tap… tap tap tap… tap. The sound felt like it came from somewhere far into the darkness. She groaned softly, slowly opening her eyes as the morning light crept into her consciousness. A smile touched her lips. Stretching her arms over her head, she blinked and focused on the source of the tapping—her window. A…
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The Man I Love
As you walk past the village, following the gravel road, just where the farmlands begin, your gaze is drawn to a quiet, boxy white house with a flat terrace. Its floor-to-ceiling windows open onto endless fields and mountains that turn soft and blue in the evening light. Crimson bougainvillea creepers frame every window, as if…
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The waterfall (part 1)
Where it all began The gravel crunched softly beneath her feet as she made her way down the rural road. It was past midnight, and the stars shone their brightest. She had left the sleeping village behind; now, the farmlands stretched around her, watched over by distant mountains. The crescent moon hung low on the…
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