Author: Jayce Ran
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The world stands on its peak,like a coin that refuses to fall.Every street feels thin beneath me,every handshake hides a thorn in the soft.They say one wiser heart todaymust carry the weight of seven sagesyet mine keeps slipping through the…
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I stand in the glass where the daylight shiversPolishing courage along my skinFolly waits by the door like weatherTrying to storm its way back in I dress in patience thread by threadLace my calm where my heartbeat sitsDiscourtesy knocks with…
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A tiny spark slips under the doorCalling her sisters like storms to the shoreOne little shadow can summon a crowdThreading the silence, unraveling loudSo hush when the small wrong wanders nearHer older kin are always here Every quiet tremor learnsThe…
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The world holds its breath for the ones who walk gently,weavers of warm mornings, fixers of torn hours.Love doesn’t rise on its own, someone warms the bowl,someone kneads the moment till the daylight flowers. Admiration is a lantern, but goodwill…
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Hush now, traveler, the doorway widens,a hollow carved by heavier hands.Great voices linger inside its ribcage,their echoes pacing like caged demands.A warning hangs in the dust-lit archway:enter only if you’re willing to grow taller than the ghosts. Beware the gap…where…
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Apricot twisted beneath her blankets, the darkness of her room thick enough to feel. Midnight lay silent, yet whispers crept through the plaster—soft, damp, patient. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the voices kept threading along the walls, rising from…
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Trial By Fire Apricot pushed through the automatic doors and into the cool night. The store’s noise cut off behind her, leaving only the hum of streetlamps and the distant throb of neon. The parking lot was mostly deserted—just a…
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Midnight Blues City shadows clung to the alley’s brick like oil, thick and heavy, refusing to let go. A single streetlamp buzzed overhead, its dying filament spitting a weak, yellow pulse that carved the dark into restless fragments. Beneath that…
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Bang Bang Bank The corridor spat Apricot out at a doorway hanging crooked on half-shorn hinges. She slipped through, boots crunching over scattered debris, and froze. The bank’s grand lobby—once marble and hush and wealth—looked like a battlefield caught mid-collapse.…
