Haiku Stories Novels & Stories

Her words flowed effortlessly, painting a new story—the story of Theo and Mama Hazel, of nighttime adventures and endless dreams, of love that knew no bounds and a bond that transcended the ordinary. As she penned the final lines of the story, a sense of peace settled within Mama Hazel. The power of storytelling had once again worked its magic, not only in Theo's dreams but also in her own heart, reaffirming the timeless truth that the greatest stories are those written with love, shared with joy, and woven into the fabric of our lives.

"Yesterday, you told me that you found treasure." She sighed deeply and told them all to gather round. "You guys know Lucas, right? My friend that I've been looking for?" They murmured, "yes" "I found him. In Mr. Harvey's kitchen, there's a secret passageway down to his basement. Lucas and two other people are trapped down there. A Korean scientist and a Chinese hacker. They've been stuck there for years, making a virus for Mr. Harvey." "A virus?" David asked again. "So, this is true."

"Aren't everyone's life a bit of a mess?" "I've known for you three days and two out of that three days we already been through so much of...of..." she trails off, then added. "Stupid encounter." Saga raise his eyebrow, "Stupid encounter?" Kira groan again, "I think I've reach my quota of stupid encounter." "I didn't know you were such a drama queen," Saga teased, making her look up and glare at him. "Besides, I like enjoying stupid encounter with you. It'll be a good story to tell don't you think?"

His hand cupped my face, warm and certain, and for a heartbeat, everything else disappeared. When we finally parted, I could still feel the ghost of his lips on mine a promise, a memory, a beginning. I looked down at the page. The ink had barely touched it, but it didn’t matter. For once, I didn’t need to write every detail. The story had already found its ending not in words, but in the spaces between them. And as Ethan’s fingers tightened gently around mine, I realized that sometimes, the truest stories don’t need to be told. They just need to be lived.

****** He was no longer hers, Larissa thought tearfully as she watched her husband being stripped by the cackling Witches. She had been blindfolded and dragged before being tossed in a hall full of witches. Silently, her tears fell. She was helpless, powerless, against them, and for the first time in her life, she wished she had been taking human blood. She had hated the fact that she had to take human life before she could eat, so she'd stuck to taking the life of animals instead. Now, look where it got her — tied and subdued like a lamb headed for slaughter. "Like what you see, girl?" Oanez appeared beside her, her wicked smile baring missing tooth.

It was late by the time I got home to pack. I sat down on the couch and glanced over at the dining table. It was a mess. There were dishes everywhere, as well as a plate of braised short ribs Dexter was known for and a pasta bake Brianna had been perfecting since forever. It wasn't hard to picture the two of them in the kitchen together while Brianna's ankle healed, cooking side by side, then sitting across from each other over drinks. And the diary I'd filled to 100 pages was underneath one of the dishes, used as a trivet. It was covered in grease stains.

Chapter One: Soft Moans The bonfire had died down to glowing embers by ten-thirty. The kids, eighty-something tenth- and eleventh-graders from Elites High, were finally zipped into their sleeping bags inside the cluster of army tents we’d pitched along the clearing. Ghost stories had turned to giggles, then yawns, then silence. Díckson and I had done the last sweep together: flashlights sweeping across canvas walls, counting heads, making sure no one had snuck off to smoke or worse.

Kei is decluttering his flat because he's going to move to a much bigger space. After two years, he can finally say that he already adjusted to his life in England. He still misses a lot of things back in his home country, but he found his peace here... He suddenly stopped organizing his books when he saw a certain magazine which was sandwiched between the two books. It was Amaia's written article about him. He instantly reads the content of the old magazine...

She realized that stories had the ability to transcend language and cultural barriers, touching the hearts of people from all walks of life. With this newfound insight, Luna embarked on a project to collect and share stories from individuals in Seoul. She sought out locals, immigrants, and travelers alike, listening to their personal narratives and experiences. These stories ranged from tales of triumph and resilience to accounts of cultural traditions and the bonds forged through shared humanity.

And it’s already had a taste . Tales from The Lake Vol.1 anthology—Remember those dark and scary nights spent telling ghost stories and other campfire stories? With the Tales from The Lake horror anthologies, you can relive some of those memories by reading the best Dark Fiction stories around. Includes Dark Fiction stories and poems by horror greats such as Graham Masterton, Bev Vincent, Tim Curran, Tim Waggoner, Elizabeth Massie, and many more. Be sure to check out our website for future Tales from The Lake volumes.