Funny Tales To Tell Novels & Stories

Not without rocking the boat at least once in my life. Feeling reckless, I said, “The funniest thing happened to me at the reunion last night,” i began, waiting for my parents to ask me to tell them more. But it was as if I hadn’t even spoken. My mother got up to refill my father’s wineglass and he started another boring tale about golfing with some old cronies from work.

I said, rolling my eyes. “What do you mean?! How sure are you?” he asked, shocked by my abrupt response. “Remember the night I had sex with a lady?” I asked, anticipating a reply. “Raymond, you always have sex! Your life revolved around it. Hit the nail on the head, homie, I ain't got enough time” “The truth and dare game I played years back. I was told to have sex with a street girl which I did without hesitation. Remember that night?” I asked, taking a deep inhale.

He leaned back in his chair, a content sigh escaping his lips. Brian chuckled a soft rumble that sent chills down my spine. "Speaking of adventures," he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips, "I've had my fair share of crazy moments. But there's one story that always takes the crown. It's so outlandish, I can hardly believe it happened to me.”

The night rolled on in a blur of laughing, teasing and ridiculous stories. They roasted Samira for the time she tripped during a big corporate event. Tasha told a story about accidentally emailing a love confession to the whole company. Devin swore up and down he saw a ghost in the break room once. Then Theo talked about the time Samira accidentally sent a draft ad with a massive typo to the entire executive board ("Best Crapper Rates!" instead of "Best Career Rates!"). Samira turned beet red, and she covered her face with her hands while everyone howled with laughter.

she blinked. Liam leaned down, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. "I'll tell you a story, and you'll fall asleep soon." Liam swiped the screen while his beautiful eyebrows knitted. "What kind of story would you like?" Gemma slowly closed her eyes. "I'll listen to whatever story you tell." "How about 'The Tortoise and the Hare' or 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'?" "These are too childish," Gemma said with dissatisfaction, quietly opening her eyes.

Their order had arrived, and she was already trying to arrange it. "What?? Did I say that out loud?" She grinned this time, "I bet you did." "I bet I meant it." Comebacks were the best. After some seconds, she put her chin In the centre of her palm. "How do you always feel saying the same things over and over to a thousand different girls?!" He looked amused and was soon laughing. A deep sound that cut through her skin. "Playboys are not that bad. Forget the movies and books you read. They're just normal guys trying to make ends meet. It's called a hustle sweetheart." His smile was sly, and ended up In a smirk.

“You think I am old? Age is just a number. I still believe I am young. You never know, I might even outlive you.” Shiva’s face tensed a little. He looked down, avoiding the old man’s eyes. They stepped out of the store, filled with their own thoughts, and ambled in opposite directions towards their homes. Shiva carried a short-stories collection in his backpack from the shop. Mr. Ben had told him he could take any book from the shop to read. He planned to read it to his sister at night. She loved stories, especially those with happy endings. She loved to imagine herself as a character in those stories and live the happy lives vicariously. This was the only pleasure Shiva could give her – for

A man hit by a car in New York in 1977 got up uninjured, but lay back down in front of the car when a bystander told him to pretend he was hurt so he could collect the insurance money. The car then rolled forward and crushed him I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

"We won't have you around much longer before you head back to school. Why don't you tell us some stories about your summer classes?" That went better than I expected. You see, my dad is a great storyteller. I'm sure when he retold some of my little anecdotes from college to his co-workers, they came out much better than when I told the same stories. Still, I was able to be entertaining and informative. It made me smile when I could coax a laugh out of them.

I was supposed to be dealing with it, not falling apart every time someone asked me how I was doing. Harper seemed to understand that I wasn’t going to answer. She didn’t push. Instead, she asked, “Tell me about your father.” I took a breath. “What do you want to know?” “Anything you want to tell me.” I thought for a moment. “He was funny.” A small smile appeared on my face before I could stop it. “He thought he was funnier than he actually was.” Harper smiled too. “He’d tell the same stories over and over. Even when everyone had heard them already.”