Milkman Novels & Stories

perfected flirtatious routines and talks,especially once he had gulped his favourite drink.It was like a politicians hollow.This particular evening,he was happy.Napolos got a gourd with milk,and a cup which she placed next to his legs.She then moved out to check if there were signs of cows coming home.Calves were now mowing in successive turns,with their voices vanishing into the ether.She saw a cloud of dust in the west,and she shot back into the house to collect her milking gourds.Kalwan had taken two fills of the cup of milk,and had gotten strength to wait for dinner.His long hands were swinging lazily over his knees when Napolos shot into the hut.He rubbed his lips against his palm,and

"Madam, I was wrong. Actually, what I said just now was false. I am living a life that is worse than pigs and dogs. Sometimes, Mike did not even have a meal before Fifi took revenge on him. He didn't care about me at all. Henmy didn't care about me except for forcing me to ask for money. Mike occasionally gave me some money, but that money was snatched away by Henmy. I want to earn money to support myself, but I am a cripple and can't earn money at all. Sometimes, I eat a meal and don't know where to eat next. "I'm not living in too much pain, thinking that you're in more pain than I am. That's why I pretended to be such a beast in front of you. I can't see that everyone is better than me, s

The old cabin nestled within the dense thicket of the village seemed almost as weary as the man who inhabited it. Arthur sat slouched at a rustic wooden table, a dimly flickering lantern casting long shadows across his haggard face. His weathered hands clutched a half-empty bottle of whiskey, its amber contents offering temporary solace to a soul burdened with remorse.

I said with a frustrated sigh. “You should call me Cain.” This man was really hard to discourage. Thing is, I knew for sure that he had some ulterior motive. He pulled up in front of his mansion, and I found myself grateful again that I could leave this confined place I shared with him. A man appeared, really handsome with light brown hair and very tanned skin, his body was more on the lean side, unlike Alpha Cadell. “You're finally back. John is going nuts, I barely stopped him from barging into Sheila's room.” The man said in a rush.

I say he walks around back to the pan and makes an0ther pancake. "I tried calling your phone but you weren't answering. Luckily for me, I called Kim and she met me in your school cafeteria. She then brought me here and..." he says smiling, he places his hand by his cheek as if whispering a secret. "I met this nice young man here. I like him," he says in a whisper pointing to Russell. He points to Russell making him turn, "Hey, Russell, by the way." he says as he walks to the fridge and takes out the orange juice, grabs a glass from the cupboard, and pours himself a glass full, taking a big sip.

Through the grime I glimpse the pinks and reds and purples of painted lilacs. The door opens. The sewer troll who has opened it, wipes his face with an arm full of pustules. "Name!" he demands. More pustules ooze from his heavy brow. Be charming, I tell myself. "I am Silvia the Ironwolf," I say, "I am new in Loop City and have come to pay my respects to your queen." He eyes me. "You're not new," he says, "Been here around four years by my reckoning."

Welcome to Mr Black Acknowledgement: Thank You so much for Choosing Mr Black!❤️ My name is Ogheneochuko Williams, the Writer of Mr Black, I want to thank you for clicking on this story, it's my favorite book ever and it took a lot for me to start it and eventually end it. I have always loved writing and I'm so happy that we young writers are being given a chance to come out of our shelves and write on a big platform like Good Novel.

The picture book had a drawing of a full moon shining brightly on the sky with an unnamed man standing directly below the full moon with a smile. “This man was a farmer. He was known to be clumsy and a fool. People in the village hated him because he was poor and he was not a smart man,” Nathan continued with a grieved voice. As Nathan flipped open the page, the picture book had turned to a sad atmosphere with the man getting bullied and tortured brutally by the villagers. Then, the man found himself seated at the corner with his head hidden between his two bent knees. He was seen crying at his own misfortune.

"I am afraid that you have made a fool out of me by telling me indirectly that I don't have sense." "You just told yourself that and I didn't make a fool out of you. Stop assuming things that are not real." "For a starter, you are mean. Who tells a girl to call him mister man?" "I guess you just met that person." "Mister man?" "Ye—es. I am mister man. The only mister that has a man in the whole wide world. The only mister that can stage a protest on the violence of animals and still eat fried chicken on Sunday."

So, with a feeling of intense hunger, he quickly began to eat. He lost everything. He became a nobody. But life went on, didn't it? And with the sense of fulfillment came a sense of gratitude. Even though that feeling was just an illusion. Just a trick to keep from going crazy. When the little baby began to cry again, now from hunger, Adelard looked at the remaining money and asked, "Do you have milk?" The elderly woman silently brought out a glass of milk and set it on the table. Looking at it without any emotion, she said something, but Adelard heard nothing. Holding out the coins to her, he asked, "Do you have a small bottle to feed the baby?"