Abdul Qayyum
Bio
I am retired professor of English Language. I am fond of writing articles and short stories . I also wrote books on amazon kdp. My first Language is Urdu and I tried my best to teach my students english language ,
Stories (105/0)
The Selling out of Lavender
The Selling out of Lavender Lilac and Lavender had been companions since childhood, their names until the end of time entwined in a fragrant memory. Lilac, with her searing ruddy hair and a snicker that may smash glass, and Lavender, all calm deportment and eyes the color of dusk. They were indivisible, partners who shared privileged insights whispered beneath starry skies and dreams written in dusty note pads.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction
Fell for the Tune, Not the Performer
Fell for the Tune, Not the Performer Elara, with her red hot ruddy hair and a chuckle that might wake the sleepiest winged serpent, was a hurricane within the bustling commercial center. Nowadays, her journey was not for outlandish flavors or sparkling silks, but for the source of a song that had caught her heart the past day.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction
The Whispering Canopy
The Whispering Canopy Within the heart of the Verdant Timberland, where daylight moved through the clears out and the discussion was sweet with the fragrance of sprouting blooms, stood a tree not at all like any other. This antiquated monster, known to the timberland tenants as the Whispering Canopy, was rumored to hold the intelligence of the ages. Its branches spread wide and tall, making a common cathedral that shielded a bunch of animals. The take off of the Whispering Canopy never fell, indeed within the harshest winters, and it was said that in the event that you tuned in closely, you may listen to the tree talk in a delicate stir, sharing insider facts and stories from times long past.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction
The Story of a Woodland Gator Reptile
The Story of a Woodland Gator Reptile As I take a late spring, early morning walk at the edge of the woods not distant from the rivulet in southern Middletown, it feels like an extravagance to drink within the sounds of this environment. I note the reproving cackles of several blue jays within the oaks. They show up to be troubled at the location of a combine of crows as they close the jay's homes. To differentiate the cacophony over, the smooth sounds of the river welcome me to come closer. As I arrive at a clearing, a Timberland Gator Lizard is sitting as still as a stone within the daylight. This is often the moment I have seen this month! Needing to observe this slippery and long-bodied animal I step ever closer. Each step I take could be a supplication:
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction
The Timekeeper's Disciple
The Timekeeper's Disciple Within the bustling city of Chronopolis, where each tick and tick of the clock held a substantial esteem, time was more than a concept—it was a cash, a drive woven into the fabric of life. At the heart of this city stood the grand Tower of Time, domestic to the respected society of Timekeepers. These gatekeepers of worldly adjust guaranteed that time streamed easily, repairing disturbances and anticipating peculiarities that may unwind the world's sensitive chronology.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction
No Trust
No Trust The wind cried like a banshee exterior the boarded-up cabin, each blast rattling the free windows like skeletal fingers. Interior, crouched by a biting dust fire, sat Amelia and Finn, their faces carved with the rough lines of lost hope. They had been caught within the phantom town of Empty River for weeks, ever since a thick, unnatural mist had rolled in, gulping the world in an invulnerable white cover.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction
Cheerful Mother's Day
Cheerful Mother's Day Cheerful Mother's Day With Cherish And Back Toward A Brighter Future Rain lashed against the layered metal roof of the little shack, a tenacious drumming that reflected the cadence of Anika's heart. Interior, by the flashing candlelight, sat her mother, Amara. Slight and lined, Amara's eyes held a lifetime of hardship, however this evening, a flash of trust moved inside them. Anika, scarcely eighteen, clutched a worn letter in her hand, the official seal catching the candlelight. It was her acknowledgment letter to the prestigious National Organized of Innovation.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Families
A Defeatist
A Defeatist Elias lived a life never-endingly hung within the shadow of "what uncertainties." Each choice, each activity, was weighed down by the fear of being labeled a defeatist. He wasn't born that way. As a child, his eyes shone with the same brave flicker as the other boys, the ones who climbed the tallest trees and chased after rebel fireflies long past nightfall. But some place along the way, fear took root, a weed that choked the once dynamic plant of his strength.
By Abdul Qayyum2 months ago in Fiction