Penpal Novels & Stories

It just quieted, until it became something softer, harder to recognize. A week into my solitude, a small package arrived at my doorstep. No sender’s name, just my address written neatly across the front. Inside was a fountain pen. The same kind I lost years ago, the same brand Joaquin once said was his favorite. There was no note. No explanation. But I didn’t need one. I knew it was from him. And that tiny gesture undid me more than any apology could have. That night, I sat at my desk, staring at the blank page on my screen. My fingers hovered over the keys. The cursor blinked, waiting.

"Explain to me, Pen, am I wrong to accompany Madame to therapy?" Peni, who had been observing her two employers, was taken aback by Leonel's question. "Ah, um, no, Sir. It's not wrong. You're not wrong." Peni stumbled over her words due to nervousness. After speaking, she bowed, hoping Leonel wouldn't talk to her anymore.

"Over a pen..." Esther retrieved her phone and handed the teacher a photo of the pen, casually stating, "This pen was a gift for Felix when he started school. It's a limited edition, one-of-a-kind, made of platinum and adorned with rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds. It features 840 diamonds totaling over 20 carats." Having never encountered such a pen before, Megan promptly denied its existence, exclaiming, "That's impossible! Don't try to deceive me with some street stall item!"

I didn’t tell your cousin I was writing to you, but I’m fine with you telling her if you want Anyways, have a good one, Miranda Well, that is not exactly what I was expecting. Someone actually wants to talk to me? To be my penpal? I can't help but wonder what is wrong with this chick, writing to an inmate. She’s probably butt ugly or has no arms. Well, I know she has at least one arm, the letter is handwritten. Over the last nine years, I have had a couple other people write to me, but they were mostly people from churches and they were more interested in talking about their religion than actually getting to know me or letting me get to know them. “What's it

“They say there’s trouble with the Indians south of here.” “That’s going to make what I suggest more difficult,” Nate said with a slow shake of his head. “You got new plans?” Joseph asked. “Where’s Sullivan?” Nate asked as he looked around the empty saloon. “I want him here when I tell about it.” “He managed to find a proper young lady named Penelope Wilson. She lives back east, but is here visiting. They’re on a picnic,” Joseph said with a chuckled. “What about Alice?” Nate asked with surprise.

I came out of my thoughts when I saw Alex next to me. “Can we go now?” I asked relieved. "My God, yes." As we left the store, I noticed that Pierre was just ahead sitting on a bench, wearing a silly smile and something red on his cheek. "You've got lipstick on your face,” Alex snapped when we got to him. "That's not the only thing I have,” he answered, getting up. "The bathrooms at La perla are a luxury." “Did she give you the blow job she said?” “Abigail!”

Erica walked over, her eyes on Penelope. "Erica, this is Penelope, Jayce's mother. Penelope, this is Erica. My best friend and my manager." She introduced. The women shook hands. "It's a pleasure. May I ask what brand of eyeliner you are using?" Penelope asked, curiously. Erica raised a brow. "Mystique." She replied. Penelope's smile grew more. "I'm glad to know you like my line of work." She said. Erica's other brow shot up with the first.

I called but nobody answered. Is she asleep? But it's already past 1pm! "Penelope?" I called again. I grabbed the door knob and tried to open it. IT'S UNLOCKED. I peeked inside and the first thing I saw was a huge pink bed. "Penelope?" I called again and decided to come inside. I walked towards the left side of her bed and saw a table with a row of picture frames. One was a little Penelope maybe around 6 or 7 years old, wearing a long pink gown and a high heels that is obviously not hers. It's too big for a kid like her in this picture.

I responded when is saw the happy smiles on the faces of the children. Penelope was a dark-haired lady with Hazel eyes. She worked as the CEO of the new company and we had bonded over the past few years while making plans, we were nothing close to being actual friends, but we were acquaintances with benefits. After what seemed like a while, I sighed and got up, I had other things to do and they could not wait, the day had just begun after all.

“Two days ago, I was playing with my sister Banabella in the woods surrounding my father’s hut. I was about tossing a stone to hit a swarm of ants which came out from a hole inside an anthill, when I heard the parrots calling my name. They mimicked it from Banabella, who, if not for the game that deafened my ears, may have called me several times. Hastily, I abandoned my friends and ran down to meet her. She held my right hand like her puppet, and ran, dragging me along, as she laughed loudly. The sound echoed in the trees. We both ran to father’s hut. My instincts told me that my father had inquired about my whereabouts because he had been eager to have a private discussion with me that day