Older Woman Novels & Stories

"Shelley? Long time. No see. How lovely to run into you." Charlotte whirls so fast her hair swings around her, settling in a cloud over her shoulders. "Shelley?" The speaker is an old woman, stooped at the shoulders, dressed in purple that doesn't suit her, pottering along towards us with an ancient shopping trolley. The bag is saggy, and one wheel is uneven, so it rises and falls as she pushes. Nonetheless, it looks to be keeping her standing. "Shelley...Oh, you do look well. Have you been on holiday?"

"Get out of this house" An old woman who should still be in her sixties shouted, pointing her hand towards the door, her age did not lower the loudness and sharpness of her voice, "Grandma, forgive us. We just finished Tommy's cremation ceremony, why will you ban us out of the house left by my husband?" A lady who should be in her forties was kneeling before the old woman with tears in her eyes. With tears, she was begging the old woman who didn't even bat an eyes at her tears.

The old lady muttered in between death smiling as blood gushed out of her mouth, “Old bitch…” I cursed and gave her one last stab making it ten, more blood gushed out from her mouth, right now I knew she’ll never survive “Right…now….the police are on their way, run….before…they…catch you little boy, repen….t” She fought and breathed her last breath I was shocked even after what I did to this old lady she still cared about me even at the point of her death, how could I have done this to such a beautiful soul

Anna tore away from her husband and rushed to the side of the older woman, pecking her cheek and pecked her cheek lightly. “Happy birthday, grandmother. You look superb. The older woman was dressed in a blue gloss gown with a large crown on her head. She smiled at Anna and wrapped her hands around her head, accepting the hug and Anna couldn’t help but admire the features of the woman. At her age, she still looked so young. Her hair, a perfect shade of gray, let it flow around her back and shoulder and her makeup was done perfectly, getting rid of the little wrinkle on her face.

The tone was commanding, with a hint of exasperation, as if the speaker had seen this reaction before and wasn't having it. Arc felt a familiar sense of recognition as he saw an elderly woman, who was likely in her seventies, and had a face etched with deep wrinkles and age lines, giving her a fiercely rugged appearance. Her hair was covered up in a red bandana with a black pirate logo on it, and she had on a no-nonsense look, her eyes gleaming with a sharp intensity behind a pair of thick, round, black sunglasses.

I didn’t want to go in further so I decided to leave and as I turned I heard some noises like feet dragging on the ground. “Don’t leave, I am coming” a female voice answered, I think it was an old woman. And sure enough from behind a big plant out came an old lady. To call her old won’t be right, she was ancient like even before the times of wolves. She had a leathery face, with lines etched on them so deep that you would think they were carved out by some woodworker. Her hair was long, and silver and was sort of not kept well. She had black glasses on her eyes. She was wearing a black long coat. In this summer fuck she must be really old to feel this cold.

She was fortunate to have such a resilient constitution at her age. "Who said so?" The elderly woman turned to check that the door was locked, then asserted loudly, "I'm uncomfortable everywhere! My grandson is almost 40 and still single. Do you think I feel calm? Just give me some medicine. Otherwise, I'll go crazy." Although her grandson was actually in his early thirties, she firmly said, "Thirty years old? That counts as an old man nearing 40. If he doesn't find a bride soon, I'll be dying of worry! Please, give me something to calm down."

The scent of lavender and sage mixed with the earthy smell of the fire, creating a comforting atmosphere. This… This was what home felt like. It felt like the house was giving me a hug, welcoming me. In the farthest corner, near the fire, an old woman sat in a large, intricately carved chair. Her skin was paper-thin, almost translucent, with deep wrinkles mapping the years of her life. Her hair was silver—silver!—and tied into a simple knot at the back of her head, but strands had begun to fall loose. Despite her frail appearance, there was an undeniable strength in the way she sat, her hands folded in her lap.

She sees this and rushes to help me. “Can I get you anything?” she asks once I’m seated in an upright position. I nod. “Water, please.” She pours some in a glass and hands it over to me, just as the door opens, and the old woman walks in. I scrutinize her. Seeing what I wasn’t able to see when I first arrived. My guess is that she was in her seventies or eighties. She still looked pretty, even in her old age. What catches my attention, though, is her unnatural white hair. It's like nothing I've ever seen before.

The elderly woman wore a stone-blue brocade coat with cloud patterns, and held a small metal hot water bottle. She appeared to be in her fifties, with streaks of gray in her hair, which was neatly styled in an immaculate updo. Her demeanor exuded a sense of authority and respect.