Short Story
"non-material gift of love for anniversary"
“Eidgah,” written by Premchand, is a touching short story that highlights the values of love, sacrifice, and selflessness through the innocent perspective of a child. The story revolves around a poor orphan boy named Hamid, who lives with his grandmother, Amina. Despite their poverty, Hamid is hopeful and content, believing that his parents will return someday with gifts and happiness.
By hamad khan26 minutes ago in Fiction
The Coffee Shop Goodbye
Ethan never believed in love at first sight. He believed in routine. Every morning at 7:30, he walked into the same coffee shop in downtown Chicago, ordered a medium black coffee, and sat by the window with his laptop. His life was predictable, quiet, and safe. Until she walked in. Her name was Lily. It was a cold fall morning when Ethan first saw her. Leaves were blowing across the street, and the sky looked gray and heavy. Lily stepped into the café, brushing her hair back and smiling like she carried her own sunshine. She looked around, searching for a seat. The place was full. Except for the chair across from Ethan. “Hey, is this seat free?” she asked. Ethan looked up, slightly startled. “Yeah… go ahead.” That was it. No music, no dramatic moment—just a simple question. But somehow, everything changed after that. At first, they didn’t talk much. Just polite smiles. A quick “good morning.” But over time, small talk turned into real conversations. Lily loved art, road trips, and country music. Ethan was more of a quiet thinker—he liked books, late-night coding, and silence. But with her, silence never felt necessary. Days turned into weeks. Their schedules aligned without planning it. If Ethan came early, Lily would show up soon after. If she was late, he would wait. It became their place. One morning, she didn’t come. Ethan told himself it didn’t matter. People have lives. Things happen. But he kept glancing at the door. Again and again. That’s when it hit him. He wasn’t just used to her. He needed her. The next day, she returned. “Sorry, I missed yesterday,” she said, sliding into the chair. “Crazy day.” Ethan smiled, trying to hide how relieved he felt. “It’s okay.” But inside, something had changed. He was in love. The problem was… Ethan didn’t know how to say it. He wasn’t the kind of guy who confessed feelings easily. He overthought everything. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if things got awkward? What if he lost her completely? So instead of speaking, he started writing. Every night, he opened a blank document on his laptop and typed letters to Lily. He wrote about how her laugh made his stressful days easier. How her presence made the noisy world feel calm. How she had quietly become the best part of his life. But he never showed her. Not once. Then one evening, everything shifted. “I got some news,” Lily said, stirring her coffee slowly. Ethan looked up. “Good news or bad news?” She smiled—but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m moving to California. New job. It’s… a big opportunity.” Ethan felt his chest tighten. “When?” he asked. “Next week.” Next week. Seven days. That’s all he had left. He wanted to say it right then. Don’t go. Or take me with you. Or at least know that I love you. But instead, he nodded. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for you.” Lily looked at him carefully, like she was searching for something deeper. But Ethan stayed quiet. The last day came faster than he expected. They sat across from each other, both unusually silent. “I guess this is it,” Lily said softly. “Yeah,” Ethan replied. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words felt stuck somewhere between his heart and his voice. “Take care, Ethan.” “You too, Lily.” She stood up, hesitated for a moment… then walked out. And just like that, she was gone. Ethan sat there long after she left, staring at the empty chair. That night, he gathered every letter he had written. Dozens of pages. All the words he never said. He printed them, tied them together, and left them at the coffee shop the next morning. “If she ever comes back… give this to her,” he told the barista. Time moved on. Weeks turned into months. The seasons changed. Lily never came back. Until one year later. It was another cold morning when the café door opened, and Ethan looked up out of habit. His heart skipped. It was her. Lily walked toward him, holding a thick stack of papers. “You’re still here,” she said, smiling softly. Ethan stood up, speechless. “I got these,” she said, lifting the letters. “The barista mailed them to me.” She paused. “I read every single one.” Ethan’s chest tightened. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” she asked. He looked down. “I was scared.” Lily let out a small, bittersweet laugh. “I was waiting.” The words hit him harder than anything else. “I loved you too,” she added quietly. For a moment, everything felt like it could rewind. Like maybe this story could still have a different ending. But then she continued— “I’m engaged now.” The world went still. “I didn’t come back to change anything,” she said. “I came back because… I needed to say goodbye the right way.” She placed the letters on the table. “You mattered to me. More than you know.” Ethan nodded, trying to hold himself together. “Some things just… don’t happen at the right time,” she said. Then she turned and walked away. This time, Ethan didn’t stop her. Not because he was afraid— But because he understood. Love isn’t always about holding on. Sometimes, it’s about learning… feeling… and letting go. Ethan sat down, holding the letters that once carried his heart. Outside, the wind blew through the empty streets. Inside, for the first time in a long time— He felt peace.
By Think & Learnabout an hour ago in Fiction
The Porcelain Protocol
The morning toast was slightly burnt, but Elias didn’t mention it. He couldn’t. To complain about the toast would require looking at the person who made it, and looking at Clara this morning was an exercise in extreme discipline.
By Edward Smithabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
When the Streetlights Come On
Nobody had to tell us to be home before the streetlights came on. We just were. Not because we were good. Not because we listened. Kids don’t work like that. We rode our bikes too far. Let the basketball roll into the street. Climbed fences we weren’t supposed to touch. Skinned our knees. Lied about where we’d been. Came home sweaty, filthy, and half wild.
By Tifani Power about 7 hours ago in Fiction
THIRTEEN
The first Tuesday of every month, we gathered in the community room of the Ashford Apartments with dishes covered in foil and Tupperware lids that didn't quite seal. Someone brought macaroni. Someone brought green beans. Someone, always, brought pie.
By Edward Smithabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
The Lesson
I had just deplaned in Austin after a torturous flight from Sacramento. The weather had been bad when we lifted off and didn’t seem to get much better throughout the flight, with an unexpected delay in Vegas that lasted more than three hours. I was already wound up tight for this trip, a work gig that was going to involve either me or someone else losing their job, so the tension of the delays didn’t help me much. Turbulence makes me nervous, and I could definitely feel my shoulders and my gut paying the price. Needless to say, when the plane finally landed, I was more than ready to disembark.
By David Muñozabout 7 hours ago in Fiction
Silence of Shame. Content Warning.
The house sat quietly at the end of the street, illuminated by dim street lights and the fading red glow of sunset. Inside, seated at the family’s wooden dining table, 10-year-old Amelia closed her homework notebook and set down her pencil. She looked around at the silent and still kitchen, listening to the quiet buzz of the neighborhood outside the window.
By Elizabeth Kaye Daughertyabout 8 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
Megan leaned forward, her tone becoming conspiratorial, and whispered, “We should definitely give her a heads‑up about the reunion; she’d love to see us all again, and I know she’s been missing the old crew.” The two women agreed to draft a concise, friendly email that would both respect Emily’s busy schedule and convey the excitement they felt for the event, proving that even the most meticulous planning could accommodate the unpredictable nature of adult responsibilities.
By Forest Greenabout 8 hours ago in Fiction
LHS Class of 01 Reunion '21
It has been about a year since Covid shut down places around the globe and the lockdown had changed the lives of many all over the world. But once the regulations had been lifted, many things changed. The same goes for the Lincoln High School class of 2020 and the upcoming class of 2021. The school had to shut down and the students had to resort to remote learning and because they couldn’t have prom or a in school graduation, the diplomas would be sent home. The class of 2021 would have some challenges but would make something work as they manage to return to class but under new guidelines. Mrs. Martin had retired after the 2020 school year ended and Mrs. Smith had stepped in as the new principal with the class of 2021 to be the first one to graduate under her. As for the class of 2001, their upcoming 20 year reunion is on a different track, but everybody made plans on going regardless. Keeping a distance and having masks are part of the guidelines until further notice and the school gym has not changed since the 15th reunion. So Mrs. Smith would have to do some quick thinking especially after realizing that the senior prom and the reunion were accidentally scheduled on the same day.
By Forest Greenabout 8 hours ago in Fiction
