Franz·Cabot
Bio
Just a naive and sentimental individual, resemblinga drifting boat~
Stories (19/0)
Echoes of Love
At seventy-six, the father sat with his daughter in the courtyard, the air ripe with the scent of memories and the present intertwined. A crow alighted upon the scene, its dark plumage stark against the backdrop of the day. "What is this?" the father inquired, his voice carrying the weight of years. "It's a crow," the daughter replied, her tone tinged with impatience. Moments later, the question repeated, and the daughter's response escalated into a roar of frustration. "It's a crow, Father! Why can't you understand?" The father fell silent, his heart heavy with unspoken words.
By Franz·Cabota day ago in Families
The Nine Brothers and the Celestial Bride
In a time when the world was young and untamed, nine brothers dwelled together, united in kinship and labor. They tilled the fertile earth and hunted the wild beasts, their lives a harmonious blend of toil and camaraderie. Yet, one fateful day, a perplexing mystery befell them. Upon their fields, they toiled by sunlight, only to find their efforts undone by moonlight, as if the earth itself rebelled against their industry.
By Franz·Cabota day ago in Fiction
#2 SWEET STORY
Once upon a time, in a dense forest, there lived a kindhearted lion known for his gentle nature. One sweltering afternoon, a famished mosquito, having gone without sustenance for an entire day, found itself on the brink of collapse. Desperate for nourishment, it alighted on a resting spot, unaware that it had landed on the majestic mane of the very lion whose kindness was legendary throughout the jungle.
By Franz·Cabot2 days ago in Fiction
Eternal Echoes
In a distant realm steeped in myth and mystery, where the echoes of ancient lore reverberated through majestic canyons and rolling hills, there resided a venerated sage known across the lands for his unmatched mastery of the "Divine Art of Mountain Shifting." His name was Orpheus, and his tale was as enduring as the very stones that made up the earth's spine, a beacon of human tenacity and the unconquerable soul.
By Franz·Cabot2 days ago in Fiction
Unveiling Potential
In the annals of educational history, a seminal experiment conducted by Dr. Robert Rosenthal at Harvard University in the early 1960s stands as a testament to the power of belief and expectation in shaping outcomes. The setting was a modest school in California, where the stage was set for an intriguing exploration of human potential.
By Franz·Cabot2 days ago in Fiction
Stumbling Stones
Once upon a time, a father and his son embarked on a journey to the city, leading their humble donkey by its halter. As they ambled along the dusty path, laughter echoed from the roadside, as passersby chided them for their foolishness: "What simpletons! With a donkey at your disposal, yet you choose to walk!"
By Franz·Cabot2 days ago in Fiction
Whispers of the Night Sky
In the hushed whispers of the night, where the world tucks itself into the tender arms of sleep, a little bear found his repose disturbed by the melodic chime of his telephone. It was the lamb, his cherished companion, on the other end of the line. "Have you succumbed to the sweet embrace of slumber?" she inquired with a voice as soft as the rustling leaves in autumn. "No, not yet," the bear replied, his curiosity piqued like the first rays of dawn. "I've called to impart a cautionary note; the weather oracle has foretold a deluge for tomorrow's skies. It would be prudent to nestle within the comforts of home, but if the call of the wild beckons, do arm yourself with an umbrella, lest you become drenched in the tears of the heavens." The bear's heart swelled with gratitude for the lamb's thoughtful reminder. "Ah, indeed. Your foresight is as sharp as ever. Thank you, and may your dreams be filled with the sweetest of meadows," he bid her goodnight.
By Franz·Cabot2 days ago in Fiction
A Tale of Love and Loss in Shanghai
Seven years ago, under the gauzy veil of a Shanghai dusk, a man encountered her for the first time beside a narrow alleyway. She was a vendor of floral crimson fruits, which he knew as hawthorns in his native North. Unacquainted with the South's milder climes, he had never imagined such delights flourished here. Newly arrived in the city, loneliness clung to him like the damp mist of the evening drizzle. On that particular eve, her cart brimmed with the vivid hues of ripened fruit, a striking contrast against the muted palette of the rainy twilight. The fragrance of freshly picked hawthorns wafted gently, their allure heightened by her presence—one hand steadying the cart, the other holding an oilskin umbrella. Her posture, poised amidst the pattering rain, struck him as a solitary watercolor, poignant and arresting.
By Franz·Cabot4 days ago in Fiction
"Feathered Tricksters & Furtive Foxes: The Ultimate Forest Face-Off!" 🌳🦊🐦
Within the tapestry of the woodland realm, where the murmurs of ancient elms harmonized with the tittering of sun-dappled streams, a curious spectacle unfurled. A fox, celebrated for its sagacity, had cultivated an uncanny ability to replicate the dulcet purrs of feline brethren, a talent that bestowed upon it a certain renown among its fellow creatures. However, this virtuosity unwittingly sowed the seeds of its own tribulation.
By Franz·Cabot4 days ago in Fiction
Enamored Metropolis
In the grand orchestra of existence, to fall in love with a city is akin to surrendering oneself to the crescendo of a passionate sonata—an experience that reverberates deep within the chambers of the soul. This cityscape, far more than mere soil and stone, is a living entity, pulsating with a singular aura and a personality as distinct as the brushstrokes of a master artist.
By Franz·Cabot4 days ago in Art