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Showing posts with the label blog fiction

The Son Who Returned Twice - A Mother’s Past Returns In The Most Unexpected Way

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  Image by AI He helped a stranger… not knowing she had once held him as a baby. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions : The Pink Mutiny , The Black Waters , Dream In Shackles She stood outside the glass‑fronted office, clutching a cloth bag that had lost its shape years ago. The morning heat of Kolhapur pressed against her skin, and the sweat on her forehead wasn’t just from the walk. Meera Patil looked at the signboard again — Khanna Constructions . The letters gleamed, confident, nothing like her trembling hands. Inside, men in crisp shirts walked briskly, holding files, talking into phones. She felt out of place in her faded green sari, the hem frayed from years of wear. Her daughter, Asha, waited outside on a bench, wiping her brow with the end of her dupatta. The girl’s left leg trembled slightly — the old injury acting up again. Meera took a breath and stepped in. The receptionist looked up, startled. “Madam, appointment?” She shook her head. “I… I need to...

The Father She Never Hugged - She Went Searching For The Truth — And Found It Too Late

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  Image by AI Sometimes the truth waits in silence — until you’re brave enough to knock. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions : The Pink Mutiny , The Black Waters , Dream In Shackles She didn’t expect the house to look this small. The taxi stopped outside a weatherboard home on a quiet street in Armidale, the kind of town where the air smelled of eucalyptus and old memories. Mia stepped out, her backpack slung over one shoulder, her heart thudding like she was doing something forbidden. She had turned eighteen last week. She had told her mother she was going on a holiday with friends. Instead, she was here. To see her father. For the first time in fifteen years. She stood at the gate, fingers trembling, staring at the front door. She remembered almost nothing about him — just flashes. A warm laugh. A big hand holding hers. A blue cap he always wore. A smell of engine oil and soap. Sweet things. Small things. The kind a three‑year‑old would keep without knowi...

The Ridge That Took Her - A Tragic Fall, A Grieving Husband, And A Truth Buried Beneath The Snow

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  Image by AI Sometimes the mountain isn’t the danger — the person beside you is. Story: S A Spencer Author of Popular Fictions :  The Pink Mutiny ,  The Black Waters ,  Dream In Shackles Amelia’s scream tore through the fog. Daniel spun around, heart pounding, but the ridge was empty. One moment she’d been right behind him, boots crunching on the shale. The next, the mountain had swallowed her whole. “Mel!” he shouted, voice cracking. “Mel, answer me!” Only the wind replied, cold and merciless. He took a step forward, peering into the white void. His breath came fast, ragged. The fog was thick enough to choke on. He couldn’t see the drop, couldn’t see anything at all. “Amelia!” Nothing. Daniel’s hands shook. He looked over his shoulder, as if expecting someone—anyone—to appear out of the mist. But the ridge stayed silent. And then, from somewhere behind him, a shadow moved. Hours earlier, the day had begun with a fragile hope. Amelia had ...