Thursday, September 30, 2010

3 six-word stories

He loves her, they’re ‘just friends’.
—Jake L.

My wedding invitations. My hit list.

“It was a mistake,” said God.
—Melanie R

Monday, September 27, 2010


She always sits deep in thought, seeing the sunset, reminding home while drinking coffee without sugar.
She has lots of stories to say but believes no one's around interested in hearing.
She is probably alone but absolutely anxious.
She can recognize different faces around going and coming, talking in strange languages, using rarely familiar & sweet words, making her whisper:
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
She has right to think everyone could be a suicide bomber here but there is no where left to run.
She has to stay there and concentrate on her job, forgetting everything.
Now, I'm leaving her.

(I'm experiencing some kind of stories which have special meaning just for one)

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Tuesday, September 14, 2010


He gently touched the tombstone. Momentarily, he pressed his cheeks against it. Below that tombstone was buried his fiancée Sapida. Her death was a very contentious incident. They said she had committed suicide.

Saeed, while had his cheek pressed against the tombstone, started to shed tears. He continuously whispered: "my dear sapida! My dear sapida…!" and shed more tears.
He was reminded of his past. Unconsciously he began to curse sapida's mother and father, her grandmother and grandfather, her elder brother and...!
While he was weeping intensely, he said: "my lord, curse all old men and women in this world, oh lord!!!"

He was groaning like a child.
In a little while with the help of his cane, he stood up and smoothed his white beard down.

Fore Sale

For sale:
Baby shoes
Never worn!

(by Ernest Hemingway)

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

start blogging

I'm a short story writer from Kabul where has lots of stories to write.

Stories which have never been noticed.