Novel & Cerita Inspiring Short Stories

Kamala asked and he nodded. “A couple of my crazy guys back in college spoke about it. So it was the fastest way to get the money that I could think of. I signed for one month and by two weeks, I was able to clear the debt and get my home back. I know my story sounds unbelievable in this century but it's my truth” Kamala pulled him in for a hug. They lay back down and she narrated her own story to him, her face wet with tears when she was done.

We never got to see how they lived happily though, but the smile in the last scene after which the The End, flew or swivelled or zoomed in, made it obvious. Nisim did tell me later that The Thief was a short story and short stories ended that way! It was five pages long, much longer than the stories in the book Deuta had gifted me on my eleventh Birthday – Aesop’s Fables – the stories in this book were never more than two pages. And always with a moral at the end. The Thief didn’t have a moral – that was the best part though – I never liked memorizing morals. But the thing was, my brother was calling the longest story I had read till then, a short story! By then, though, I had some idea of a

I began, my voice shaking a little at first. “It started about a year ago and it just keeps getting worse. I get these waves of uncontrollable arousal all the time, even when I’m not thinking about sex at all. My pussy just starts getting wet, really fucking wet, like I’m in heat or something. Sometimes I’m sitting in class trying to focus on a lecture and suddenly I feel it start dripping down my thighs. I have to excuse myself and run to the bathroom just to wipe up or change my panties before it soaks through my clothes. And the wet dreams… every single night. I wake up humping my pillow like a desperate little slut, sheets completely soaked underneath me, my clit throbbing so hard it act

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Rebecca’s hand hovered, trembling, then dropped to her side. “I can explain,” she said weakly, voice shaking. “It’s just… fantasies. My husband barely touches me anymore. He’s always gone, and when he’s here it’s quick and boring. I started watching that stuff for… relief. The younger guy thing. The nerdy ones with big… you know.” Her eyes flicked down to the very obvious bulge in Elias’s lap. She stared hard at it “Jesus Christ, Elias,” she breathed. “You’re huge.”

"There are a dozen reporters after your story." He set the glass down and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. His eyes darkened, something predatory flashing in them. "Because you're different. Persistent. Beautiful. I watched you for weeks, Lena. The way you move, the fire in your eyes when you chase a lead. You intrigue me. And in my world, intrigue has consequences."

Of course, I’m beyond lucky to be able to live in a place where the ocean is only a twentyminute drive away. It soothes me. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. Maybe I would’ve started taking up yoga. I heard that helps broken people like me. Why does love have to be so hard anyway? Isn’t it something that should be delightful? Moving on was not in my cards though. I tried. I really did. I had other options, but I declined every single boy. They weren’t like Logan. Some of my friends recommended dating apps, but there was too much irony in that.

The old castle stood high on the rocky hill where the forest met the mountains. Its stone walls were cracked and covered with thick vines. No one had lived there for hundreds of years. People in the nearby village whispered that the place held something dangerous. Something that burned hotter than any flame. Elias had heard all the stories but he still came anyway. At twenty six years old he felt stuck in his small quiet life. He worked in the village bakery during the day and spent his nights reading old books about forgotten magic. One book spoke of a fire demon who once ruled these lands. The words pulled at him until he could not stay away.

It was obvious that he had to be strict because trusting everyone when you have a business of gold and diamonds was really dumb. He owned a little gold shop from the savings of his entire life. He had a wife and a son. He sent his son John to another city for his higher studies. Mr. Paul could barely see because of his vision loss but this didn’t stop him from working hard for the sake of his family. He believed in the fact that hard work is the key to success which Keith Jonas didn't really agree to but obviously always had to pretend to.

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