Chapter 3 The Dracaena Green  One weekend, my father-in-law visited us. After tea, we settled into the garden for a quiet chat. He enjoyed a cigar after nearly every meal and had a way of making our conversations lively, often weaving in a few memorable stories from his past. My husband had gone to the nearest town to pick up some groceries we needed.  Evening’s arrival here needed no clock or alarm—it was nature’s subtle signals that marked the time. The chorus of crickets began, filling the air as if each tree had its own gathering, their song resonating through every corner of the garden. Loud and unchanging, the sound was hypnotic, a ceaseless rhythm that wove through dusk. Their singing held the air in suspense, echoing until darkness settled, then gradually faded into the deep quiet of night. On the left side of our front garden stood a towering dracaena tree, lush and grand, reaching over 15 feet high. Its thick, leafy branches had become a home for a family of ow...

 Chapter 2 The second month Punchi Banda  One of the most cherished parts of my life was greeting the early sunrise. Each morning, the village temple would begin the soothing rhythm of pirith chanting, filling the dawn air with tranquility. I would usually prepare a steaming cup of tea for us and gaze out at the distant hills as they began to warm under the sun’s embrace.  Our morning walk through the garden had become a daily ritual for my husband and me. We took such joy in noticing the first sprouting of the newly planted vegetable seeds. Yet, this morning, our garden greeted us with unwelcome sights. The vegetable plots had been torn apart by unexpected visitors. My husband suspected wild boars were to blame.  So, we resolved to protect the garden by fencing the plots with strong iron netting. That’s when Punchi Banda stepped in, a willing hand to help us fortify our precious garden against the nightly intruders.  In moments like these, the village reveals i...

 Echoes of a hallow life   Life is full of mysteries that often elude explanation. We encounter unexplainable events—moments that feel supernatural, unlucky coincidences, or remarkable experiences that linger in memory. Halloween may be known as a time when dark forces supposedly roam, yet, in truth, the shadowy and inexplicable weave through every corner of existence, unrestricted by any single day or season. While many remain skeptical, others believe in the presence of hidden realms and energies that shape our world in ways beyond our comprehension.  Tragic accidents, sudden deaths—some who experience these return to tell stories of what lies beyond. But what of those who do not return? Are they welcomed through the doorway to eternity or cast into a place of reckoning? The questions of life, death, and what may lie beyond compel us to reflect, for they touch the essence of our humanity and the mysteries we carry within.  This is the story of Azar—an anonymous sou...

 The final Halloween  After the funeral of their beloved sister Hazel, the family drifted apart, lost in grief that years could not soften. Hazel had been the bright spirit among them, a cheerful soul with strange quirks and an infectious warmth that had drawn friends like moths to a flame. No one could have predicted the tragedy of that dreadful day—the day Hazel’s life ended in a twisted, violent descent down a steep, shadowed road on her way to a camping trip. Fit and skilled on her bike, her death was as sudden as it was inexplicable. Even now, whispers lingered: Did she fall…or was she pushed?  As Halloween approached, the family decided to reunite in Hazel’s memory, hosting a "Trick or Treat" party at the long-abandoned ancestral home. The house loomed like a phantom in the darkness, its windows hollowed out, gaping black mouths. They adorned it with grinning Jack-o’-lanterns whose candlelight flickered like mocking spirits. Shadows danced across the walls, cast by ...

 The whisper of Wills After navigating the lumpy road, I had to stop for a cup of tea. The closest shelter was a thatched hut, the only man-made structure in sight. "The road ends after the next climb," said a man, handing me the tea. "Are you on holiday? There aren’t any places to stay here except the Wills Bungalow," he added in a low whisper. I glanced at him curiously and nodded. The man gave me a look of concern. "Sir, you’d better leave before dark—you could get lost," he warned, his gaze intent.  I quickly finished the tea and got back in the car. It was nearing 5 p.m., and the fog was creeping in, thick and menacing. The cold was biting. My thoughts raced. Why had Mahen come this way? My best friend, who was expecting me, had chosen this remote route. I drove uneasily along the steep road, feeling an overwhelming sense of isolation, as though I were the last person on Earth. The endless acres of pine trees loomed eerily in the fading light. The eve...

 The village wedding  It would have been an incredible experience to live during the early 19th century and take part in a traditional wedding in my homeland. I love everything about my country, except for the political atmosphere. One of the most vivid memories I have is of attending a wedding in a rural village, the first and last one I attended at someone’s house. I was just 9 or 10 years old, and they were distant relatives I barely knew. I can still picture the red frock I wore—perfect for the long journey, providing comfort and ease. We left quite early, but we arrived just in time before the newlywed couple made it to the church. Almost all of my cousins were there, turning it into an exciting day trip for us kids. Although I don’t recall the traditional rituals or the cake cutting, since there were so many people ahead of me, the day was still memorable. Growing bored with the wedding itself, I wandered off to explore the expansive garden surrounding the house. At the ...

Don't speak - Hush! “Mom, I’m not going there again!” Vanessa shouted, her voice echoing with frustration. “They were rude and evil to us—it’s almost every day!”  Mrs. King remained calm, listening patiently as her teenage daughter vented. At high school, Vanessa’s classmates belonged to an elite social circle, always flaunting their status and looking down on anyone deemed unfashionable. The so-called “Elite Charm,” a group of four wealthy girls, ruled the hallways with their snobbish attitude, getting away with everything simply because of their money.  Vanessa, spirited and athletic, was a key player on the school’s basketball team. Unlike the popular girls, she proudly wore her denim skirt paired with a different top every day. Her best friend, Tasha, shared her unconventional style, and together they embraced their unique identities. The other girls, Kath and Mandy, were also left behind, out of touch with the latest trends and shunned by the affluent crowd. The rich girl...

 The Great Leaf Stakeout (A humorous story) As the clock struck 8, the Kirby family settled into their cozy living room for their nightly ritual—a couple of hours of television, tea, and snacks. Laughter echoed through the room, mingling with the sound of crisp crackers crunching and the occasional heated opinion about the TV show's latest plot twist. Tonight's choice was a thrilling crime watch series, which had everyone glued to the screen, eyes wide and popcorn bowls nearly empty. Even little Shelly, the youngest, was swept up in the suspense. Halfway through the show, Shelly's stomach rumbled. She sighed dramatically, drawing amused looks from her parents, and made her way to the kitchen to rummage for a snack. She returned to the living room with a plate of crispy crackers but decided to pause by the window, munching and daydreaming as she looked out at the garden below. Then, Shelly's eyes widened. Above the wall of the next-door garden, a shadowy face seemed to p...

The midnight Prince  ( Fiction) Lyan was easily the most striking girl in her class. Her long, dark curls tumbled down her back like a waterfall, and her skin had a flawless glow that made others envious. Her beauty was undeniable, so much so that even her friends couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Yet, it was her grandmother who adored her the most, always watching over her like a guardian whenever Lyan was left alone at home.  Books were her escape. She spent countless hours at the library, lost in the pages of adventures and romances. The smell of worn paper and the quiet hum of the old building always filled her with a sense of wonder. But one afternoon, while perusing the shelves, she was approached by a group of her classmates—girls who always seemed to have something mischievous in mind.  "We have a secret," one of them whispered, her voice dripping with excitement. "They say there's a prince, a dark and mysterious figure, who appears only to the m...

The Window  Jennie struggled with the window, her fingers slipping on the wet frame as the storm outside raged on. It was the second day of the relentless monsoon, and the rain hadn’t let up for weeks. She had tried to air out the house earlier, but keeping a window open even for a few minutes was impossible. The sky had darkened earlier than usual, casting a shadow over the empty street below. Not a soul in sight. Inside, Jennie was alone with her teenage son, Ken. Their house was a beautiful one, with two elegantly designed top floors and intricately carved wooden handrails. The garden outside flourished with green shrubs and a border of brightly colored flowers. But despite its pleasant appearance, the house had a growing sense of unease. Lately, strange things had been happening: the faint sound of a child playing upstairs when no one was there, the creak of the front door as if someone were trying to open it from the outside. These eerie incidents always seemed to occur at dus...

The Fishing Rod The fishing rod hung limp, empty as it had been all day. Roger let out a sigh, bored and frustrated, and began the long walk home. The massive river that stretched before him had been his constant companion as he grew older. He could swim for miles across its glassy surface, or glide down its length on makeshift rafts with his friends. They had spent countless weekends and holidays together, fishing, camping, and hunting, always chasing the next adventure. For Roger and his friends, life by the river was a kind of freedom. The thrill of catching fish and cooking them over a crackling fire, seasoning them with spices and herbs from old family recipes, had become a ritual. And on those nights, as they camped under the stars, the wild calls of the night echoed around them, making them feel like explorers in their own untamed world. That day, Roger had cooked a dish of freshwater shrimp he'd caught the day before, the delicate meat tender and flavorful as it sizzled in ...

The Lady It was only her second month as an assistant teacher, and the school still felt unfamiliar, especially with so many students. The summer break was always long and stiflingly hot. Now, it was the final week before the holiday. That was when Julie first noticed her. Her friend, Sally, had whispered about the strange woman—the one with the scarf and reed hat. She was painfully thin, moving slowly, almost feebly. Her sunglasses shielded her eyes, but Julie wondered if they hid more than just protection from the burning sun. Nobody lingered in the schoolyard during the summer. The heat was unbearable, and yet this woman always seemed to appear. “What’s the matter with her?” Julie asked one day, feeling exhausted herself from the oppressive heat. Sally hesitated before replying, shifting uncomfortably. “She’s got cancer.” Julie was taken aback, but something in the way the woman looked at her made her uneasy. They crossed paths a few more times before the term ended. Every time, the...

WHO IS IT?  Reading the newspaper had become a ritual for Dan, especially during the long, cold evenings when the silence of the vast tea estate seemed to deepen his solitude. The isolation was palpable, made worse by the fact that, as an unmarried man, his presence was a bit of an anomaly in the remote estate of "Nuraya Tea." But being the youngest superintendent the estate had ever seen filled him with pride. Each morning and evening, Dan eagerly walked along the dew-soaked rows of tea bushes, their lush green beauty giving him a sense of accomplishment. His bungalow, a grand and imposing structure, stood at the highest point of the estate, offering breathtaking views of the distant blue hills. That evening, Dan sat in his oversized armchair, his eyes scanning the headlines as he absentmindedly sipped his tea and nibbled on toast. The room was vast, its high ceilings swallowed in shadow, save for the soft glow of the fire burning in the hearth. The crackling wood barely cut...

Murphy's Encounter It was late that night when Murphy got into his car. He wasn’t a reckless driver, but he felt a sense of urgency. "I can drop you off on the way," he offered Chloe. "Thanks, Murphy, but Tony will pick me up," she said excitedly. With a quick nod, Murphy hurried to his car and began the drive towards Ramalan. Whenever he felt lonely, he tuned in to golden oldies. Tonight, he found solace in the quiet, the kind that only came from being utterly alone. The narrow road leading to Ramalan was pitch black. The area had never had street lights, and there were few travelers at this hour. It always felt like you were the last soul left on Earth. As he turned onto the desolate path, his headlights caught sight of a small boy standing in the middle of the road. The boy was wearing a crumpled school uniform, his feet bare, and his face smeared with dirt. Murphy slowed the car, heart thudding as he came to a stop. Stepping out, he approached the boy cautio...

The Midnight Buddy   The semester was winding down, and there were only a few weeks left before exams. Tony sat in the back of the lecture hall, tapping his pen absentmindedly as the professor’s voice droned on about cardiovascular diseases. His thoughts were elsewhere—back in his dorm room, specifically. He had chosen a room in the cellar of the old dormitory building, away from the chaos of the student population, and though some found it strange, Tony enjoyed the peace and quiet it provided. The university, sprawling across fifty acres of hilly terrain, was one of the largest in the country. It was far from his home, but the atmosphere—the fresh air, the silence, and the view of paddy fields stretching for miles—was soothing to him. Tony had always been a top student, with aspirations to become a cardiologist. He’d grown used to the tranquility in his room, where he often stayed up late, absorbed in his textbooks. His roommate was supposed to arrive weeks ago, but they never sho...

 The mission of Mac  It was Mac’s turn to keep watch over the notorious criminal Rex-su’s lifeless body. The other constable, Harvey, was fighting off sleep as midnight had long passed. The body couldn’t be moved until the postmortem was conducted, so it lay there in the dim light, covered with a ragged cloth now drenched in blood. The air was thick with the stench of death. In the distance, the eerie sounds of nocturnal creatures echoed through the trees, as if they sensed the gravity of what had transpired.  "I need to rest," Harvey muttered, rubbing his eyes.  "Then do it," Mac said, trying to sound indifferent, though he felt a knot of unease growing in his stomach.  The forest was alive with unsettling sounds—the screech of an owl from a nearby thicket pierced the night air. Since the incident, the two constables had been holed up in the open log hut, waiting for the officer-in-charge to arrive. The old Petromax lantern was sputtering, its flame flickering ...