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The Man Who Sold Dreams
The Man Who Sold Dreams There was a shop at the end of a forgotten street. It had no sign, no grand display. Just an old wooden door with a small brass plate that read: "Dreams for Sale." People whispered about it. Some said it was a scam. Others claimed it was magic. But those who stepped inside… never walked out the same. The First Time I Entered I found the shop by accident. It was late, and I had been wandering aimlessly, lost in my own thoughts. Then I saw the door. Something about it pulled me in. When I stepped…
The Library of Unwritten Stories
The Library of Unwritten Stories Deep in the heart of the city, hidden between towering buildings and busy streets, there was a library that few people knew about. It had no grand entrance. No glowing sign. Just an old wooden door with a brass handle, and a small, faded plaque that read: "The Library of Unwritten Stories." No one knew who owned it. No one remembered when it was built. But the few who found it… never forgot it. The First Time I Stepped Inside I discovered the library by accident. It was a rainy afternoon, …
The Little Café That Time Forgot
The Little Café That Time Forgot There’s a little café in the middle of the city. It’s easy to miss. Tucked between towering office buildings, its faded wooden sign barely visible among the flashing neon of modern life. But if you step inside, time slows down. The air smells of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries. The old wooden floors creak softly beneath your feet. And at the very back, by the window, sits a woman who never seems to leave. Her name is Evelyn. And she’s been waiting for someone for a long, long time. The First …
The Train That Never Stopped
The Train That Never Stopped There’s a train that runs through my town. It doesn’t have a schedule. It doesn’t appear on any map. But everyone knows about it. The Midnight Train. It never stops. Never slows down. Just roars through the station, its lights glowing in the dark, its wheels rattling like a heartbeat against the tracks. And the strangest part? Sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear voices. The First Time I Saw It I was ten years old the first time I saw the Midnight Train. My grandfather had told me stories about it—about h…
The Girl Who Chased the Sun
The Girl Who Chased the Sun Elara had always loved the sunrise. Ever since she was a child, she would wake before the world, slipping out of bed while the sky was still deep blue, just to catch those first golden rays breaking over the horizon. Her mother used to call her "the girl who chased the sun." "One day," Elara would say, "I'm going to find the place where the sun begins." Her mother would smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And what will you do when you get there?" Elara…
The Library of Lost Things
The Library of Lost Things It was one of those forgotten places— the kind that exists only if you know where to look. Tucked between two towering buildings, hidden behind an old iron gate, stood a small library. No flashy signs, no advertisements, just a simple wooden plaque above the entrance that read: "The Library of Lost Things." I had passed by it countless times without noticing. But that evening, as the sun dipped behind the city skyline, something made me stop. Maybe it was the way the light caught the dust in the windo…
The Man on the Bench
The Man on the Bench I first saw him on a Tuesday. The park was quiet that morning—just the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the city waking up. I had my usual coffee in one hand, my notebook in the other, searching for inspiration in the way the sunlight filtered through the trees. And that’s when I noticed him. An old man, sitting alone on a wooden bench near the pond. He wore a brown coat, slightly worn at the edges, and a faded cap pulled low over his silver hair. His hands, weathered by time, rested on a small wooden box i…
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