Friendship

When Mira first saw Jonah, he was sitting on the library floor, surrounded by books, like a small island in a sea of ​​paper. He had pushed his chair aside, as if the usual rules of sitting no longer applied to him, and he was reading with such intense concentration that the rest of the world had vanished . Mira paused in the aisle, pretending to look for a book she didn't need, just to watch him for another moment. Yet Jonah saw her. "Are you looking for something?" He looked up, smiling, a smile that perhaps surprised even himself. Mira blinked. "Uh—yes. Maybe. I think so." He stood up, brushed the dust off his jeans, and glanced at the shelves. "Fiction or non-fiction?" "Fiction," she said, relieved to have an answer. "Something... hopeful." Jonah nodded seriously, as if she had given him an important task. He pulled out an old paperback and handed it to Mira. "This one. It doesn't start out hopeful, but it gets there. I...

In the small town of Maplewood , nestled amidst whispering forests and winding rivers, there was a school where everything moved at a leisurely pace—as if time itself had slowed down. Among its many students was a girl named Lily Thompson, known for her quiet demeanor and love of reading. She possessed a gentle simplicity that allowed her to blend easily into the crowd, yet her eyes, the color of a tranquil autumn sky, always held a spark of curiosity that belied her calm nature.Lily's life was simple. She spent her days reading, helping her mother in the garden in the afternoons, and taking solitary walks along the riverbank in the evenings, where the gentle breeze would caress her long brown hair. She didn't mind being alone. It gave her time to think, to daydream , and to savor the quiet comfort of her small, familiar world.But there was one person who disrupted the monotony of her daily life—James Miller. He wasn't like the other boys at Maplewood High, who were often b...

In the heart of a bustling city, where dreams were both forged and shattered, lived a quiet young man named Romeo, whose heart was as vast as the sky. He worked in a small bookstore nestled on a cobblestone street, where the scent of old books and coffee always lingered in the air. The shop was his sanctuary, a place where the outside world faded away with every turn of a page. Across town, Junaid was a painter—a free-spirited woman who saw beauty even in the imperfections of the world. She spent her days capturing fleeting moments of life on canvas, her art an extension of the emotions she couldn't express in words. Her studio was in a small attic above a café, where she lived alone, surrounded by her paintings and sketches, each one telling a story of her soul. Their paths first crossed on a rainy autumn afternoon. Romeo was shelving new poetry books in the bookstore when Junaid sought refuge from the storm. She was completely drenched, her curly hair clinging to her face from ...

In the golden deserts of ancient Arabia , where caravans traversed the scorching sands and poets sang in the marketplaces under the moonlight, lived two souls destined for a love that would be remembered for centuries. Their names were **Qays** and **Layla** – but the world would forever know them as **Layla and Majnun**, the immortal lovers.Qays belonged to a respected Bedouin tribe, known for his intelligence, charm, and talent for poetry. From a young age, he composed verses as effortlessly as the desert wind. Layla, the daughter of another noble tribe, was renowned for her beauty and captivating grace. People often said that her eyes held the sparkle of stars and her smile was full of kindness.Their first encounter took place at school. It was an ordinary morning, but fate had cast its die. Layla entered the classroom, and for Qays, it was as if the world stood still. Her presence filled the air like a sweet melody, and Qays, usually so self-assured, felt his heart tremble. When sh...

Aarohi always believed that the best thing about school was its familiarity—the same blue-and-white uniform, the same bell ringing at exactly 8:30, and the same walk to her classroom with the same group of friends. Everything in her world was familiar, comfortable, and safe. At least, that was the case until the first week of tenth grade, when Ryan suddenly burst into her life like a monsoon rain.He was a new student, quiet at first, but impossible to ignore. With his neatly combed hair, shy smile, and habit of tapping his pen whenever he thought hard, he seemed more at home at the science fair than on the basketball court. Aarohi wasn't sure why she noticed him—perhaps it was because he always sat near the window, or the way he held his notebook as if it held a secret.On the third day of school, their class teacher changed the seating arrangement. Aarohi sat down next to Ryan."Hi," she said softly, straightening her bag. "I'm Ryan.""Aarohi," he r...

Meera Patel always thought her life would be peaceful—relaxed mornings, neat notebooks, good grades, and maybe the occasional late-night cookie run with friends. She wasn't the kind of girl who would suddenly admit or confess anything. At nineteen, in her second year of college, she still lived as if she didn't want to take up too much space.So when a lost notebook changed everything, even she was surprised.It happened on a windy October afternoon. Meera had entered the campus café after her chemistry lab, her backpack half-open, her hair tied in a ponytail. She ordered her daily cinnamon tea, sat in a chair, and opened her laptop—only to realize twenty minutes later that her light blue notebook was missing. The same notebook where she had written all her thoughts, little doodles, and half-finished poems that she never wanted to show anyone.Her heart was pounding. She retraced her steps: the counter, her table, the bus stop outside. Nothing.By dinnertime, she felt her notebook ...