Short Stories 55 Words Novels & Stories

she says before walking out. I’m not family. Nothing is going on with King and me. Sighing, I walk to the class and sit down. I stop when I see the paper, the sketch, and the poem on it. The sketch is of an eye, with the reflection of a person walking in it. I begin to read the poem. A hundred words Doesn't speak enough A thousands stories Doesn't tell enough A single look, tells so much A lifetime of stories A lifetime of pain Emotions hidden within

“How about a new story little one? A story with no pitchforks and nobody dying seems better for a walk in the woods, don’t you think? We wouldn’t want you to have nightmares tonight.” “Oh Gran, I’m five and a half now. I can read and everything! I don’t have nightmares anymore. Especially not from stories. They’re just make-believe!” “Some stories are real little one. Today I’ll tell you a true story, about a shy young princess who gathered up all her courage and jumped in the river to float away and hide from a whole pack of werewolves!” “A whole pack of them?” “That’s right.” “Did she know how to swim?”

I wasn't afraid or weary of the length of the road as long as I didn’t have to walk it alone. The sky had darkened by the time the pick-up we were in finally stopped in front of Bu Narti's house. Dim lights from the surrounding homes welcomed us, and the sound of crickets began to fill the night. I jumped down more slowly than Julien, still feeling weak even though my body was a bit stronger after eating on the way. As soon as my feet touched the ground, a faint yet piercing cry greeted me. "Mom… where's Mom? I want Mom…" a small voice called from the porch. Ratna, Bu Narti's daughter, around seven years old, stood hugging a worn-out pillow. Her face was wet with tears, and her body trembled

“That’s not the point.” The waiter came with our orders; a plate for me and a glass of blood for Ivan. I made a face at his own chosen meal which he ignored, sipping languidly. He watched me eat in silence and I tried not to look at him watching me. When I was half way done, he spoke suddenly. “The full moon is in five days. I know you’ll want to do something stupid.” His eyes glittered dangerously “Don’t.”

Both in their late fifties, with the same blonde hair as Emily, making Max the odd Emily, being a simple minded girl, was stunned when she saw Olivia and wondered how someone could look this beauti Getting closer to Olivia's table, Max maintained a stoic expression, while Emily kept staring at Ol Olivia's parents got up on their feet immediately and began exchanging pleasantries with each o Max said his greetings to the couple politely and didn't miss the admiration in their eyes, while Emily did the Now it's Olivia's turn to greet the fa Max's eyes snapped towards Olivia, who was busy smiling at the praises she's getting on I*******m for her limousine and refused to even look up at

~Liliana~ The ride back to my tiny apartment feels like stepping off one planet and landing on another. The fancy estate with its perfect green lawns disappears as I stare through the window, replaced by potholed streets, flickering street lamps, and buildings that look like they are one storm away from falling apart. When the black car finally stops in front of my building, I mumble a quick thanks to the driver and slip inside before I can change my mind. The stairwell hits me with that familiar mix of old takeout grease and damp, moldy carpet. My key jams in the lock like it always does, fighting me for a few seconds before it finally turns. Home sweet home.

“I have my moments.” We talk about everything except football—travel horror stories, worst interviews we’ve done (theirs are better than mine), the general absurdity of adult life. Harper tells a story about accidentally interviewing the wrong athlete at the Olympics—fifteen minutes in before anyone realized. Sloane talks about the time she got stuck in an airport for three days covering a story that fell through. I tell them about the teammate who thought “per diem” was a type of pasta. It’s easy. Natural. The kind of conversation that makes hours feel like minutes.

Her husband ran out just as her pursuer pulled up,jumped from his car and yelled:'Lady,there's A MAN WITH A KNIFE HIDING IN YOUR BACKSEAT! I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

She kisses me back with shy eagerness. The End (or is it only the beginning?) That is it for my short story about Lilly and Mr. Storm. I hope that you liked to read it as much as I liked to write it.

She yelled. “Yes Ma’am.” Stella came and answered. “Are you deaf? Ive called your name twice!” “I'm sorry I was cleaning the windows” Stella answered in a low voice. “Whatever! Go and make 2 glasses of lemonade in 5 minutes and send Zac in my bedroom. Go! Hurry up!” Caroline commanded. Stella went and made 2 glasses of lemonade and went into the master bedroom along with Zac. I noticed Stella taking Zac with her to the master bedroom which didn’t happen often. I quickly ran and took my father along with me and stood outside the bedroom and peeped through the side of the door.