My Penpal Novels & Stories

“Yeah. I mean—sure. Why not?” I smiled faintly, lowered my gaze to the paper, and began to read aloud: Hi Rose! Don’t ask how I know your name. I’ve actually known you for a while, but I’ve always been too shy and scared to come up to you. I’d really like to be your friend—or maybe even your best pen pal. I also sent gifts to make you happy. Just drop a response into the mailbox so I can see your reply. Much love, from Little Anonymous.

I made one last trip home and took with me a box that had long been gathering dust. It was filled with letters. They were from a pen pal I'd met online during my first year living with the Finch family. Back then, I was living under someone else's roof. I was sensitive, withdrawn, and deeply insecure. My pen pal was a boy I had never met, whose warm and thoughtful words gradually melted the chill of my loneliness. We exchanged letters for an entire year, sharing everything—our happiness, sorrow, frustrations, and hopes.

“Joseph also seems to be fond of you as well and I admire that. As I said, he talks very fondly of you. So, tell me, how was it being his pen pal? I’m sure it was a nice experience.” Being his pen pal has always been made up, so I knew I had to come up with something to please her. “Oh yes. It was nice. We had a lot of conversations and then we met up a couple of times for dinner and to discuss some books and how to better my own writing. He was always such a gentleman,” I told her, trying to keep a smile on my face. She stared around my face for a short while, trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not.

I need to make an excuse, or better yet, make a story for this. His forehead furrowed. “And who?” I blink. “Uhm, my...my pen pal!” I swallow hard. Darn, pen pal. What the heck did I just say? “Pen pal?” He scoffs. “A pen pal?” He shook his head, not believing what I just said. I composed myself.

Koji said. “Doki-Doki?” Katon looked confused. “No worries.” He opened his tome. ”Say, Katon, do you have something precious to you?” He asked. “Yes, I do.” Katon pulled a black pen out of his pocket. ”This pen is really precious to me. It’s a memento of my late best friend. He loved writing and he loved my writing. He is the one who made me want to be a great novelist like him.” He added.

That is a relief, I am glad that the person sitting beside me in class is a good one. "Did you all bring your pen with you?" Paris asked and everyone yelled out - "Yes!" While me over here, is panicking because I have not brought a pen with me! I am an idiot, how could I forget that a pen is the notebook's best partner? "Hey um, I'm sorry but do you have an extra pen with you?" Momo turns to me and then shakes her head. Ah what should I do? Seems like I've already messed up my second day in this school..

“In the past you were all about women. Did prison made you switch, or is there something you have to tell me?” I hadn’t even noticed the smile on my face until my mom touched the corner of my lips. Only one woman had this kind of effect on me, and that was Elena. “I met someone,” I told my mom. “Well, I haven’t exactly met her yet, but we will—soon.” “She was my pen pal, and we have been writing each other emails, and she’s so easy to talk to.” I shared. “I asked her to meet me in a few days, and if she feels the same way I do, she’ll do it.”

About The Author The author is a Bicolano who hails from Binanuhan, Pilar, Sorsogon. Having lived half of his lifetime in the same locality, he devoted most of his time to learning practical things through observations and several failed attempts. Because of his ardent desire and persistence to harness, develop and maximize everything that he has to its fullest potential, he was able to achieve a certain level of mastery on matters which is of prime significance. He is passionate about a lot of things. He is simultaneously a carpenter, composer, inventor, mathematician, choir and acoustic band member, frequent user of Microsoft Excel and Google Sheets to solve work – related problems and, w

Only those sentenced for non-violent crimes, who were first offenders and had good records both in prison and out, and who were screened by their counselors and Pastor John, were chosen as participants. Still, this isn't something I'd typically be brave enough to do. At twenty-four I'm still a virgin. I've never had a boyfriend and don't have any male friends. In fact, outside of my church, I don't really have any friends at all. Talking to people I don't know gives me too much anxiety. I feel awkward and never know what to say. Outside of my job as a librarian and my interactions at church, I rarely have the courage to talk to anyone. So when Pastor John approached me to encourage me to try

Another reason why we never actually went along that well. "Well, here is one for you." Mom gave me a pointed look as she took out one white envelope and passed it to me. "Don't tell me you're writing to that pen pal again." I was a bit taken aback as I took it from her hands and stared down at the white folded paper. I never received any such mails, even the school ones were usually sent as emails. And of course, I wasn't writing to my pen pal again. That happened when I was just eight. Mom somehow seemed to forget that.