Carminido

Carminido

Hi There🫡 I write code and create contents. I want to inspire people through creations made by my own hands.🌿 English is my second language, and I want to improve my English skills. I welcome corrections and feedback on my language!

183
Writings
48
Followers
58
Following
Good Thing

Elias Grey had always been a good man. At least, that’s what he believed.\n\nA history professor at a small university, he spent his days lecturing about fallen empires and moral decay. His students admired him, his colleagues respected him, and his quiet life in the city was unremarkable. But deep down, Elias knew he was a man of limitations—an observer of history, never a maker of it.\n\nThe fir...

1
Soft Eyes

Mira leaned against her desk, tapping her pen, half-listening to her teacher. “I studied all night,” she muttered under her breath, even though she hadn’t opened a book.

A second later, her test filled itself in—perfect answers, flawless handwriting. No one noticed. No one ever did.


She had learned how to lie gently: about grades, talents, little things. Until yesterday.


“I wish Dad were still h...

1
7
The Silence Between Snowflakes

Juno didn’t mean to get snowed in.


She just wanted quiet. A short break from the endless scroll of messages, meetings, and neon city buzz. The cabin—an old rental in the middle of the northern ridge—seemed perfect. No Wi-Fi. Wood-burning stove. A kettle that whistled when it boiled.


She arrived just before the storm.


At first, it was beautiful. Snow fell in slow motion, coating the pines in sug...

Unstoppable

Deep in the forest, beyond the reach of satellite eyes and forgotten roads, lies a camouflaged fortress—an amalgamation of ancient stone, high-tech cloaking mesh, and the overgrown embrace of nature. Ivy drapes its walls like ceremonial robes. From above, it looks like a hill swallowed by the forest. But beneath the camouflage? A mind unlike any other.


Her name is Elian Kael.


Years ago, Elian wa...

Pace

A breeze tiptoes through morning light,

Whispers secrets, soft and slight.

A leaf spins down in silent grace,

Like time forgetting to keep pace.


No need for reason, rhyme, or scheme—

Just drifting gently in a dream....

Permission to Feel

Lena had spent years perfecting the art of being okay. She carried her grief in quiet places, tucking it behind polite smiles and well-rehearsed words. Whenever sadness rose in her chest, she silenced it with work, with responsibilities, with the exhausting effort of being strong.


“You’re so resilient,” people would say, as if it were a compliment. As if being untouched by pain was something to b...

2
The Cats in the Book

Elara had always loved old books. The way their pages smelled of time and ink, the way their covers told stories even before she opened them. So when she found an ancient, leather-bound book in the dusty corner of a secondhand shop, she knew she had to take it home.


That night, curled up in bed, she flipped through its pages. It was filled with illustrations of cats—sleek black ones, round-faced ...

Forest

In the forest, shadows play,


Dancing lights in soft decay.


Mossy carpets, roots that creep,


Secrets buried, ancient, deep.


A stream hums low, a quiet song,


Whispered tales of time so long.


Branches bend with wisdom’s weight,


Guarding paths that twist with fate.


Among the stillness, life abounds,


A heartbeat felt, a world of sounds.


Echoes linger, voices old,


Stories told, yet never sold...

The Quiet Trader

In the heart of the bustling port city of Marisol, where merchant ships laden with silks, spices, and secrets arrived daily, worked a trader named Calen Pryce. He was known not for his wealth—though his coffers were undeniably full—but for his uncanny ability to procure what others could not. Need an ancient relic? Calen would find it. Missing a loved one? Calen had a knack for tracking people dow...

tell

Come when the nights are bright with stars


**Or when the moon is mellow;**


Come when the sun his golden bars


**Drops on the hay-field yellow.**


Come in the twilight soft and gray,


Come in the night or come in the day,


Come, O love, whene’er you may


And you are welcome, Come when the nights are bright with stars

No

Or when the moon is mellow;


Come when the sun his golden bars


Drops on the ...