Poor Man's Novels & Stories

"Amara, I've been thinking a lot these past few days. I know I was wrong. "You know what my life was like before. My family was poor. I never understood what it meant to have money. When a poor man becomes rich overnight, he loses himself. That's how I ended up doing something so foolish that everyone turned against me."

“I don’t really like him so I don’t mind.” “But when you said that his mother is annoying you Mommy, I think it’s because she also thinks that you are poor” Jack explained his side. “Ohh..is that so?” she was pondering how to explain the concept of rich and poor to her son when she heard the warm voice of Mark. “No, we are not poor.” “Son, come here” Mark chuckled and waited for Jack to sit beside him. “To some people, being poor means you don’t have enough money to live a comfortable life”

I was sucked into some game world with 99 other people. The system's robotic voice announced, "Welcome, all 100 players, to the Survival of the Poorest. Starting funds: 50 dollars. Objective: Survive 7 days inside the game. The winner gets one million dollars in prize money! Overspending, dying, or stepping outside the designated area will be treated as a forfeit, and you will carry one million dollars in debt." The voice paused for a moment. Then, with a sly tone, it continued, "Now then, do any cowards want to back out?"

"Yeah, but you rake it in faster doing nothing. Just open your mouth and take it from our family. The future Leonhart heir spends more on a pet than that." "Shut up! Shiloh, what nonsense are you spouting? Explain it to Judy." I folded my arms, laughing. "Explain what? That we're getting a divorce so you two can play house? Or that you're not broke—yet—but give it a little time and you'll be out here recycling bottles for spare change?"

With the new rule in place, things weren’t easy for the poorest people. My stomach grumbled as I saw the fruit man place his goods on the shelves. It has been several days since I haven’t been able to eat anything. “Are you hungry, child?” A mysterious man asked me as he was about to place a couple of coins in the bowl of another beggar next to me. The man was tanned as if he were glazed by the sun; his eyes read an expression of pity that was directed at me. I nodded my head. He smiled and went on to get lots of fruits for me, and as he tried to hand them over to him, I refused because I realized this perfect heaven-sent man would also change into stones.

What does Jason have that I do not apart from money and affluence? 'There you go. I am tired of being poor. I have realised that a poor person is looked down on and trampled on even but one only has to be rich to get all the love and respect of the populace. Wealth gives one immunity against alot of things and I am done with poverty and anything that reminds me of that'. 'But with your business and my job, we could get by!' :I don't want to just get by. I want to live a life of luxury'

Sukesi only survived one day in the hospital. Hartono came from a poor family, while Sukesi came from a wealthy family. He didn't have the money to pay for the hospital and funeral expenses for his wife. The man had asked for help from his in-laws, but they instead cursed him and said that Hartono had caused Sukesi's death. In his desperation, Parto came with an offer. He gave a loan of ten million with the condition that Hartono had to pay three times the amount after the due date. Parto gave him five years.

Edmond grabbed a seat and sat close to Jameson speaking to his face. The smell of his breath was not very appealing. It was like his attitude. Well, Jameson had always known. Edmond had a bad breath. Edmond began to tell Jameson a story. He spoke of a poor boy who had grown up in a very poor area, where he had seen firsthand the effect of poverty on people's lives. This boy had always dreamed of being rich and having all the luxuries in life that wealth could bring.

The kind of place where dreams die and people do whatever they can to survive—just like we’ve been forced to do. Everyone here is poor—in fact, so poor that most of us can’t even afford a good 32-inch television. Everything we have and call a good TV is an old-fashioned set on a shelf or stool with a long antenna on top. It’s a far cry from the life we once had and from the luxury that was ripped away.

In their eyes, being poor was a crime. Poor meant you'd sell your soul for money. Poor meant you had no morals. Poor meant your heart was as poisonous as a snake's. "Mrs. Tyson, you have quite the imagination," I said. "But maybe you should focus on figuring out where your daughter actually went, instead of making baseless attacks on my character."