Messenger Novels & Stories

The glow of the screen reflected in his deep eyes. The chat was filled entirely with messages he had sent. [Adriana, I'm back.] [Adriana, I'm sorry.] [Adriana, Happy New Year. I wish you and the children all the best.] [Adriana, I miss you.] Every single message had bounced back and was followed by a red "Not Delivered" icon.

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He raised his brows staring intently at me. "What is regirator" I asked confusedly. Humans just have too many things and so much wierd names for their things. "It's refrigerator Melissa and not regirator, it's where snacks and foods are kept to make them cool" he explained but I didn't understand anything he was saying. "What is snacks" I looked at him and saw his expression and couldn't help but stiffle a laugh. He looked so amusing. "Where sweet things are kept Melissa. why did you finish everything there?" He dropped the object on his lap and faced me. I blushed and looked down fiddling with my dress.

I click the message bubble and the conversation opens. It reads: YOU’RE GETTING TOO CLOSE TO STERLING. STAY AWAY FROM HIM! HE’S DANGEROUS!!

And there, on W******p, a new message notification from an unsaved number. Three messages. My breath caught. I stared at the preview. Hi. It’s Kael.

Finally, he sent a text message. Eric: [Hazel, I'm sorry. Will you come back?] I did not reply. Some mistakes could not be fixed with just an apology. The pain of twenty years of neglect, the trauma of the birthday party fire, and the betrayal by my father to satisfy his illegitimate daughter's desires were memories that had deeply scarred me, impossible to erase with just an apology. I erased the text message, set my phone aside, and shifted my gaze towards the living room. Andre was sitting on the carpet, with my son on his lap, earnestly telling him a story. "Then the big bad wolf howled and fell off the bridge!"

LAYLA’S CELL PHONE beeped while she was at her desk, busy chatting on F******k Messenger on her laptop. She picked up her phone and saw Anika’s text message. Come to my office, she told her. She left the conversation on her laptop and stood up and with her phone in her hand, walked towards her boss’ office.

An attached message. A picture. And a video.

the assistant added. Ever since other instant messaging apps became the norm, the term "MMS" seemed very distant and far away from him. Kevan tapped into the messaging app, and the topmost message was indeed from Ron. The MMS was a video, and he only played it after returning to his office.