One Page Short Stories Novels & Stories

One would think her humorous tales were just for laughs or to pad the word count, but by the conclusion, it became evident that she was laying out foreshadows throughout. While working on her first novel, "Mizzy" also wrote several short pieces, each around two thousand words, which she simultaneously published on ScribeSphere and shared on social media platforms. These bite-sized stories, light-hearted and humorous in tone, could be devoured in mere minutes. Their appeal was evident when they were repeatedly shared across platforms, gaining her a good number of followers. However, many read her short stories without noting the author behind them, completely unaware of "Mizzy."

Heat pooled between my legs, insistent and wet, but it was the tenderness in their eyes—the quiet hope—that cracked me wide open. “I’m thirty-one,” I whispered. “I’ve spent years chasing men who either want to fix me or fuck me and forget me. The ones who stay are boring. The ones who excite me are always… taken. Or gay. Or both.” A wet laugh escaped. “Like you.” “Not gay enough, apparently,” Julian teased softly, but his voice was thick with emotion. His fingers stayed gentle on my shoulder.

Chapter 1 The bookstore smelled like fresh coffee and old paper, the way it always did on event nights. Elena Reyes stood at the front of the packed reading room, microphone in hand, watching twenty kids and their parents lean forward as she finished the last chapter of the bedtime story. Laughter rippled through the crowd. A little girl in the front row clapped so hard her pigtails bounced. Then her phone buzzed on the podium. Once. Twice. Three times. She ignored it until the applause died down. Only then did she glance at the screen.

I may not be the same as I was back then but I'm going to fight till I win my battle. It's been a week since I've seen Josy . These days I've been thinking of how to approach Josy, how to turn a page further in my story .That is why I'm here in front of Josy's office to turn over to a brand new chapter . I knocked on the door and waited for her to respond .After a brief moment I heard a come in and so I went forward to open the door.Josy sat there looking me straight in the eye with a smile plastered on her face .That alone gave me the encouragement that I needed . "Good morning Josy, I have thought of what you said and I'm here to turn a page further in my life." " So ,how has your day bee

And maybe in the end I'll succeed. The ideas have never stopped flowing, and amidst the difficulties, I've gathered them together to tell even more stories. I have a notebook full of ideas, story segments just waiting for the right piece to fit into. I've conceived many new universes. I have a love story planned that I hope will make your heart skip a beat, between two young people wounded by the world. A horror story that I hope will take your breath away, with its demons. A fantasy that I hope will transport you to a world of mysterious creatures and strange rites.

She’d intended this particular story to be one volume, but the story had expanded so much that Thea could see multiple volumes in the future. Although what did it matter how many volumes there were when Thea couldn’t find the courage to show anyone her work? She began to sketch the next page in pencil. She was so distracted, though, that she realized that she’d skipped a necessary panel for that page. Grumbling, she tossed that page into the trash and started over.

Chapter 2. It was almost midnight when Sierra realised that she had only written a total of 5 SENTENCES!! And about three of them were insults. She groaned and pushed her laptop away from herself “ugh this book hates me” Malachi noticed the look of frustration on her face and teased…”what’s wrong?” with a little giggle. “Oh shut up” she groaned…again, throwing a piece of crumpled paper across the room. It missed completely. “Oh I missed by a mile” she said to him sarcastically.

Please follow my f******k page jane above story and group jane above story if you wanna chat or keep updated on my writing schedule. Yours, Jane above story

I set down my pen. It felt complete. Hope peeked over my shoulder. "That's all?" I laughed. "Sometimes the shortest stories carry the longest journeys." She considered that. Then nodded. "I like it." The Lantern of Beginnings shimmered. One tiny light floated from its crystal and settled gently onto the final page of my journal. The ink glowed softly. Then faded. The words remained. Permanent. As though the story itself had approved. A warm breeze swept across the valley. The flame on the pedestal danced gently.

💦The First Night 💦 I never meant to become addicted. It started innocently enough, or at least that’s what I told myself. My name is Mia, 24 years old, living alone in a small but cozy apartment in Chicago. I worked from home as a freelance graphic designer, which meant long hours at my desk with headphones on. But one night, three weeks after I moved in, I forgot to wear them. That was the night everything changed. It was a Thursday, around 11:40 PM. I was lying in bed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, scrolling through my phone, when I heard it for the first time.