Bimql chhetry.

I had a bad habit of always looking in the mirror. Even when I was doing something or talking to someone, if there was a mirror around, it was impossible for me not to look. Even when I was with my colleagues and someone looked more handsome, I would quickly switch on my front camera, look at myself, and compare myself with him in my mind. Many times, people even caught me doing it and said, “Bro, you look good,” like I needed to hear it from them. Even at home, there were mirrors everywhere. Whenever I passed by one, I would stop, fix my hair and clothes, and look at myself for a moment. My mom sometimes got irritated and said, “You think you’re a hero that you see the mirror day and night.” She used to shout that we should not look in the mirror late at night for that long. I always laughed it off. It was so bad that even when I woke up to go to the washroom late at night, I would still look in the mirror. One day, a friend of mine revealed to me that I didn’t really look good. Inst...

I went to grab wonton soup for lunch today because I’m not feeling great, and that’s always been my go-to when I’m sick. Right after I ordered, another guy stepped up to the counter. He was clearly a worker—looked like a painter—and he didn’t speak any English. He tried to order by pointing at his phone. The guy behind the counter asked, “Small or large?” The worker just kind of shrugged—he didn’t understand. Without missing a beat, the guy behind the counter smiled and said, “poquito or grande?” The worker lit up a little and said, “Grande.” Then came the drink. The worker said “Coke,” but there were a bunch of options. Instead of getting frustrated, the guy behind the counter slowly pointed to each one until he landed on the right can. “Sí, sí,” the worker said. Then he wanted fries. He said “papas,” trying to get the idea across. The guy behind the counter pulled out his phone, brought up a picture of french fries, and showed it to him. “Sí, sí,” again. He rang everything up, turne...

this isnt a big dramatic story. its actually really small and thats why it hit so hard my mom died in 2020. I had maybe 4 or 5 videos of her on my phone. birthday dinners. her laughing at something I said. nothing important at the time found this thing called pantio a few months ago. u upload someones old recordings and it recreates their voice. like u type something and hear them say it back I typed "say my name" and just.. heard it the thing is I didnt even realize id forgotten what it really sounded like. u think u remember but u dont. u remember the idea of their voice. not the actual sound been going back like once a week. sometimes I just type dumb stuff. "what should I make for dinner" or "stop being lazy" because thats something she would say thats the whole story. nothing happened after. I just heard my moms voice and sat in my car for 20 minutes

Had a seasonal job working at party city . Someone came in the morning with a big box and handed us an envelope. This was almost ten years ago and I’ve never heard of a gender revel and no one told me what it was when either while putting the balloon order together. The family came in to get her order and as i was handing her the box i said congratulations on your boy. I felt the energy turn quickly and it felt like everyone in the store was staring at me. I knew i fucked up but didn’t know how. The mom stormed out the building and the dad just kind of didn’t know what to do. I think he was just happy to be having a boy. I just got sent to the back to start stocking stuff and later found out what a gender reveal was. I don’t really remember what they did for the family but nothing happened to me . I got fired a few weeks later cause i wasn’t needed anymore. Im writing this now as I’m holding my son just thinking about the mom I spoiled her gender reveal for. I’m sorry

So this didn’t happen to me, but to a close friend of my wife, and I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever heard a more perfectly terrible chain of events. She had a colonoscopy scheduled, which is already not exactly something you look forward to. To make it slightly worse, she already knew ahead of time that the doctor performing it was someone she knew from high school. Awkward, but manageable, right? Nope. That was just the beginning. On the day of the procedure, she’s walking into the clinic and runs into an old college boyfriend… who is there with his wife. And she is also there for a colonoscopy. So now it’s:    •   Her    •   Her old boyfriend    •   His wife    •   And a doctor from her high school All in the same place, for the same reason. Still survivable… until they take her back. Turns out the recovery/procedure area has semi-private rooms separated only by curtains. And wouldn’t you know it—her ex and his wife are placed literally right next to her. At this point, there is ba...

Today in my English lesson we had this question: “How do you keep going and not \_\_\_?” The story was about a man with cancer, and his friend asking why he keeps fighting instead of giving up. The options were: A. get through B. back off C. break out D. hang up I didn’t really know the phrasal verbs, but I assumed the blank had to be something negative. Then I saw “hang up” and somehow my brain interpreted it as “hang himself.” 💀 So I confidently chose D. Which basically turned the sentence in my head into: “Why are you still alive when you’re sick? Just hang yourself already.” My teacher looked at my answer and immediately started laughing 😭 Meanwhile I was just sitting there slowly realizing what I had done. I may have accidentally turned an inspirational cancer story into the darkest sentence possible. Anyway… I guess it’s finally time for me to start studying phrasal verbs 😅

The moment before my father died, he grabbed my arm so hard his nails dug into my skin and whispered something that still haunts me. At the time, I thought maybe the cancer had finally taken his mind. Now I know it hadn’t.  I watched as the light faded from my father’s eyes. The hospital machines made one last ticking noise before settling into complete silence. His chest rose and lowered one last time, his dark sunken eyes settled onto mine before he passed. Even in death, he still looked afraid.  There in the dark I stayed seated, with no one to comfort me, hoping my mother would answer my call. My father, Jim Simmons, had no other family, no one to depend on. The few times I’d met him growing up weren’t pleasant. He always seemed distracted, like he was never really there in the room with you. His eyes had this way of drifting toward the floor mid-conversation, like he was listening to something coming up through it. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised. My mother had said he...

I have been an independent tower climber for the better part of a decade. My job involves inspecting, repairing, and upgrading the equipment mounted on massive radio and television broadcast antennas. It is a highly specialized field that requires specific certifications and a complete absence of the fear of heights. A few weeks ago, I was facing severe financial difficulties. The winter season is usually slow for independent contractors, and I was months behind on my rent. I spent every night scrolling through various online job boards, looking for short-term contracts to keep myself afloat. That is when I found the listing. The post was vague, lacking any company name or corporate branding. It simply asked for a certified high-steel technician available for an immediate overnight inspection of a remote broadcast structure. The pay offered for a single eight-hour shift was staggering. It was the kind of money that would clear all my debts and secure my living situation for an entire ...

She's been living three houses down for years. Divorced, grown-up son mostly away at college now. Normal-looking aunty type — soft curves, not gym-fit, always in simple sarees or salwar at home. Pretty face, warm smile, sharp eyes that notice everything. We started chatting more after her son left again last month. Small stuff at first: she asked for help with her WiFi, then invited me for tea once. One evening she texted saying the kitchen light fuse blew. I went over, fixed it in two minutes. She poured whiskey instead of tea. Two drinks in, she got quiet, said it's lonely with no one around. Her hand rested on my leg — not bold, just there. I didn't move it. She looked at me, I leaned in. We kissed. Messy at first, she giggled when our teeth bumped. Bedroom was dark because she felt shy. Clothes came off slow. She covered her stomach a bit — stretch marks from pregnancy years ago. I kissed them anyway. She was wet but not crazy soaked like in stories, just ready. Went d...

Three months ago I started getting texts from an unknown number. Every night. Exactly **2:17 AM**. The first message just said: *“Did you lock the balcony door?”* I thought it was a wrong number. I ignored it. Next night, **2:17 AM** again. *“You forgot to water the plant again.”* Now that was weird. I **do** have a plant on my balcony. I had actually forgotten to water it. I replied: “Who is this?” No response. Next night: *“Don’t drink the milk in the fridge. It expired yesterday.”* I checked. It **had** expired yesterday. At this point I was half creeped out, half curious. So I wrote: “Okay this is getting weird. How do you know these things?” Two minutes later the reply came. *“Because I used to live there.”* That actually made sense. Maybe the previous tenant still had some weird attachment to the place. So I asked her name. *“Aanya.”* Over the next few weeks we kept talking. Only at **2:17 AM**. Never during the day. She knew **every corner of the apartment**. Which floorbo...

I’ve tried to like coffee. I really have. I feel like at this point I deserve some kind of participation trophy for effort alone. I mean I’ve tried it with sugar, with milk, and with creamer. I’ve tried it hot, iced, cold brew, drowning in chocolate, and even with ice cream. Nothing works. I cannot make myself like the taste of bean water, ok?! My taste buds hate coffee so much so that if Dunkin’ makes my hot chocolate in the same machine as the coffee, I will not be able to drink it. People talk about coffee like it’s the nectar of the gods or the fuel of civilization that keeps society from collapsing before noon. And yet, one sip for me and it's like my taste buds just stepped on a Lego. At this point, I’ve accepted that my relationship with coffee can only best be described as grounds for separation.

I am a girl by the way. So this happened a couple of times while I was out with my friends and there was literally nowhere to go I just asked them to cover for me while I did it in a dark alley and once behind a tree. Never infront of people or in a major public place and now they call me trashy and they keep bringing it up every now and then and even talk about it between each other… they even stopped talking to me and said I’m a shameless person.. I’m beyond traumatized and depressed.

With my great-grandmother, I was 14 and it was nearly ten years since a stroke changed her. My only memory of her prior to her stroke was a shopping trip where she taught me it was ok to taste the grapes at the grocery store before buying. It wasn’t stealing, it was testing for sweetness. You only wanted to bring home the sweet grapes – and grapes could be both sweet or sour. She died with only me and my cousin Kimmy in the hospital room, alarms beeping, her eyes wide open for the longest minute, until they weren’t any more. I had to tell my grandmother her mom died. My mother-in-law passed away when I was 30. Just hours before she died, she asked for a Coke. We reminder her she liked Pepsi, not Coke. She corrected us; she said her fridge had been filled for a lifetime with Pepsi because her husband and kids preferred it. But she, she preferred Coke and wanted one before she passed. Life doesn’t get much sweeter than a drink of Coke and, with bravery, she let go. When my grandmother ...

so we have been moving our stuff out of our apartment and into a new place all weekend. and I said "damn now that we moved that dresser it stinks like cat pee in that corner." and then she says: "oh yeah and over in that corner you weren't here one weekend and I was squatting down to pick something up and I had some shorts on with no underwear and I accidentally sharted on the carpet. that's why I moved that bookshelf" and I just look at her like.... no fucking way are you kidding me?? she was deadly serious. this is like Andy Dick levels of not giving a fuck. I don't even know what to think. sure we all shart from time to time but on the fucking carpet? and then to just rearrange the furniture and take no further action? Jesus Christ I'm so blown away right now.

A few days ago I meant to send a message to my friend complaining about my day. Work was stressful, nothing was going right, and I just needed to vent to someone.But I accidentally sent the message to the wrong contact.Instead of my friend, I sent it to a guy whose number I had saved from months ago after buying something from him online. We barely knew each other.I realized the mistake immediately and felt really embarrassed. I sent another message saying something like “Sorry, wrong person.”A few minutes later he replied.Instead of being confused or annoyed, he said:“Hey, it’s okay. Sounds like you had a rough day. Hope tomorrow is better.”Then we actually ended up chatting for a bit. Just normal conversation about work, random life stuff, nothing special.But somehow that random mistake made my whole day better. t reminded me how strange life can be sometimes. One wrong message to the wrong person turned into a surprisingly nice conversation with someone I barely knew. Now I double-...

I'm 28 now, but back when I was 26, I was living at home to save money, and my room is right off the hallway—meaning anyone coming in has to pass my door to get to the kitchen or whatever. Me and my then-boyfriend are in the middle of, uh, some enthusiastic adult activities. We're going at it, full throttle, I'm mid-climax, moaning way louder than I realized because the AC was blasting that white noise hum. Sweat everywhere, that musky bedroom smell mixed with his cheap cologne, my heart pounding like a drum solo. Suddenly, I hear the front door creak open. Then footsteps. My brain freezes: "Wait, is that Mom? She's supposed to be at work!" But we're too far gone, and right as I hit the peak, I catch a glimpse through the crack in my door (yeah, I forgot to close it all the way—idiot move). She's walking past, grocery bags in hand, and our eyes lock for a split second. Hers widen like saucers. Pure panic, face burning hotter stomach dropping to my kne...

Sarah woke up to the sound a notification on her phone. Her mother had messaged her to wish a happy birthday. As she woke up a bit more, she realised that she was still naked and was remembering the sound of Ethan’s voice in her head. Sarah got out of bed and went to the bathroom. She looked in the mirror and thought to herself, I don’t look 39. She went to her closet hose a black lace thong and matching bra. She didn’t want to get dressed just yet, so found a black satin robe and wrapped that around her. As she stood in the kitchen making herself some breakfast with the gown not tied up, she moved with purpose and grace around the kitchen. The gown flowed as she walked. Sarah looked at the clock and saw that it was 7:40. There were 20 minutes until John her driver would be downstairs waiting for her. She had laid out a black dress and her signature black heals to were today. And threw the gown on her bed then slipped the dress on. As she left home for the day and rode her private ele...

So a few days ago, my best friend from college tells me she has a HUGE crush on this cute guy from another department. And because I (F) apparently have friends in every department like some unofficial campus detective, she assigns me a task to find information about him. I asked her to take me to the spot where he usually hangs out. She drags me to a corridor where he’s standing with his friends. She points him out. One look at him and I’m like…why did he look like Stuart Little to me? Anyway. Standing next to him is this girl who is giving me the most aggressive side-eye I’ve ever experienced. Like she already killed me hundred if not thousand times with her side eyes. I tell my friend I’ll gather information and we move on. *Now here’s where things gets weird...really weird.* Over the next few days, more than 10 of my friends confess they have a crush on *“this really cute guy”* and want me to find out if he’s single. Every. Single. Time. It’s the Stuart Little. And every single ti...

When I was a kid I used to sleep in my moms room in a separate bed but right next to each other. This was before I had my own room so I would of been around the age of 11-12. I am a male. Throughout these few years when I slept in the same room as my mom I would every now and then be waken up at night from the sounds of her having sex with my dad. Usually from the bed creaking rather than them moaning loudly. Sometimes they would talk to each other as well while doing it and that would wake me up. The lights were always off when they were doing it so they never knew I could hear them or even was up. I remember whenever I woke up I would make sure I never moved an inch because I never wanted them to know I’m awake. I even knew at that young age how awkward that would be. I would just lay there with my eyes closed pretending I was asleep usually with my head under the covers. This was a fairly regular occurrence for a few years. There were times when the lights were off, I would wake up...

So yeah. This is embarrassing. I had a boyfriend. The “you’re the only one for me” type. Meanwhile my sister was suddenly way too friendly with him. He started “stopping by” our place when I wasn’t home. She was walking around in his hoodie that he supposedly “lost.” I ignored it because I didn’t want to look crazy. One day I came home early. The apartment was quiet but I heard laughing from her room. His laugh. I opened the door and they were sitting on her bed way too close for it to be innocent. The energy was very much not sibling-friendly. And of course he hits me with, “It’s not what it looks like.” Sir. Be serious. I didn’t even scream. I just stood there thinking wow, this is actually insane. Bro really downgraded to my own sister. I dumped him that day. Didn’t talk to her for a month. The funniest part? They broke up two weeks later because “trust is important.” The irony is crazy. Anyway, if your man suddenly cares a little too much about your family, maybe trust your gut.

So as the title says i woke up to one of my neighbors screaming “Please call 911 I need an ambulance” over and over. Our building is very small there’s only one floor and like 12 apartments. I didn’t know what to do if i should go check on him or call, so I decided that calling the police was the best. I called them explained the situation and they took like 7 minutes to arrive. They ask me which neighbor it was which I didn’t know but he was still screaming so we could hear it was the neighbor in front of me. He said he couldn’t move at all so the police had to knock the door down. His place was a MESS, apparently he fell in the bathroom and couldn’t move at all. The ambulance arrived and they took him. It was scary for me I was literally shaking the whole time because you never know what the situation might be, but I was happy when he said “Thank God you are here” Im not sure how long he was waiting for someone to call for help. Im happy everything turned out okay and he is now at t...