Pinocchio Wooden Novels & Stories

Walking into Paul’s humble wooden house, I observe the simple yet cozy atmosphere that surrounds us. The worn wooden walls exude warmth, complemented by the faint scent of aged wood. As my eyes scan the room, they land on a collection of old guns hanging proudly on the wall, telling tales of Paul’s past. Pictures of a younger Paul, adorned with a charismatic smile, decorate the shelves and surfaces.

Lumapit ako kay ate at kinuha ko ang phone ko sa bulsa para irecord ang mga sasabihin niya. Hinawakan ko 'yung isang Mini-House Bank. It is made from wood, popsicle sticks, and paper and it isn't just a normal money bank because it has a boundary that you can separate the coins. It's an upstairs wooden square house painted cream and dark brown. Downstairs has two windows on the left side and three doors. I believe it's a sliding door in a real house. There is a pool in the backyard which is surrounded by plants. It has also room upstairs on the left side with a door in the middle and an open space on the other side that can be used for parties and downstairs it is a garage.

But she actually had a bad feeling about it. She kept her backpack on the bed as she walked around the room. Her eyes caught a white doll beside her bed. it was quite beautiful but old looking. She picked up the doll staring at it. Suddenly,,, a strong wind blew heavily to her surprise. That her backpack fell from the bed as thunder clapped noisily. She became visibly scared as the room's light switched off. "GIVE ME BACK MY DOLL" A strange voice echoed in her room...... TBC Are we ready? Unlock the next episode with your likes,,,, comments and shares! ®️PinkyPreshyChioma

’ “Mr. Wood is a fighting master I encountered in the provincial capital of Skyspring many years ago. He’s a welcome guest of my family.” Kayson nodded. Soon afterward, a sparkle came from a few silver needles in his hand. He flicked his fingers gently and sent the silver needles flying across the air! Tuckson was greatly astonished, but there was nothing he could do to dodge them. The silver needles penetrated the pressure points on his limbs and immobilized him. A thud echoed when Tuckson collapsed to the floor. Tuckson could not feel his limbs, and his face was filled with fear. “What did you do to me!?”

They looked magnificent, their syrup and honey covered glory with two little white sticks poking out their arses. I then examined the workstation for my next idea. I dismissed the wooden rolling pins for being too large but then I changed my mind. Who to go first? I thought to myself I eased the large wooden pin into my wife’s waiting hole. She gasped loudly and clung to the table. “ Oh my god it’s huge” she gasped. Her cunt stretched to accommodate the wooden roller.

Banging noises came from outside my walls and my brows quirked in confusion. I lived alone. Quickly, I stood, careful not to make a sound. I grabbed the gun I had illegally purchased after I noticed that I was being followed (twice). Flipping it out of the safety lock, I gripped the butt tightly, hiding it behind my back as I opened the door gently. The noise came again, the clacks and bangs of pots and pans sounding through the house. This thief obviously didn't go to stealing school. Cus what in the hell of unstealthiness was this noise?

It was ours. "Alice?" Marco's voice came from the door. This time, he entered, carrying two cardboard boxes. "What's that?" "Sit down. Open them." I sat in the rocking chair—the same one Dorotea had used—and placed the boxes on my lap. I opened the first one. Inside, a tiny boot. Light brown leather, soft as butter. With light pink details on the sides and a miniature little buckle. It was the size of my hand, but perfectly formed, like a real cowboy boot in miniature version.

I murmured, smiling when he didn’t even glance up. “Mm,” he hummed lowly, eyes still on the wooden piece in his hand. “They’re almost done. You know how Elian gets when he sees the twins with something new.” My lips curved as I stepped closer, peeking over his shoulder. Three tiny wooden toys rested on the table — one was a small horse with intricate details carved into the mane, the other two were little bears. The twins’ initials were carefully etched underneath. “You carved their initials?” I asked softly.

"Go on then." Marcus reached into a leather satchel. "I found these while cleaning one of the supply wagons." He held out a small cloth bundle. "What is it?" I asked, eyeing it carefully. "I am not entirely sure," he admitted. "But I thought you should see them." I accepted it cautiously. Inside were tiny wooden pieces. Half-finished carvings. A little bird, a rabbit, a wolf with only one ear completed. My breath caught in my throat. I knew those knife marks. I knew the way the wood had been shaved down.

The wooden bedframe was clearly made from mahogany due to the reddish–brown colour it had. That bed was the softest thing she had laid in for years now. She couldn't even remember the last time she was ever comfortable. From lying on the rough, hard rock dungeon ground as a five year old, bound by very strong and thick chains strong enough to hold a ferocious lion, to lying on rock surfaces, grasslands and bare grounds when on the run from her seemingly never ending, never desisting enemies.