Short Stories For Bedtime Novels & Stories

The Bedtime Story The twins were tucked into their beds, smelling of lavender soap and fresh cotton. The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the nightlight shaped like a crescent moon. "Story time!" Lyra demanded, clutching her stuffed wolf. "The one about the King!" she requested. Alex sat in the rocking chair between their beds, stretching his long legs out. Zara leaned against the doorframe, listening. "Again?" Alex asked. "You know how it ends." he told them.

Shayla resisted longer, peppering me with last-minute questions about whether clouds slept and if frogs had birthdays. Lucas waited until the others were settled before speaking quietly. “Can you tell a story?” Something in his tone—hopeful, vulnerable—unlocked a memory deep inside me. “My mother used to tell me stories,” I said softly. “Would you like one of those?” Three heads nodded eagerly. So I began. I told them about the moon that fell in love with the sea but could never touch it, about the brave girl who taught the stars how to sing, about the fox who tricked winter into leaving early.

Then, she sat down on the edge of his bed and read him a story. Bryan loved being read to by Miss Esther. She had a soothing voice that made him feel relaxed and sleepy. He especially loved stories about animals. Tonight, Miss. Esther was reading Bryan the story of "The Very Hungry Caterpillar." Bryan loved this story because it was so funny. He laughed out loud every time the caterpillar ate another food. When Miss. Esther was finished reading, Bryan was so tired that he fell asleep right away. Miss Esther tucked him in and kissed him goodnight.

I declined into the chair, my eyes scanning the room. Ella did the last button of Ivy's pajamas and smiled at me. I flashed a signal to Ella to help me out and she laughed, her fingers pointing to a nearby shelf in the room where all of Ivy's bedtime stories were arranged. I walked over to the shelf and picked a book barely glancing over to see it's contents. I sat back into my chair and was about reading when I skimmed it through the first chapter. The story was about a frog who dared to dream, going on an whimsical adventures. “I'm going to be telling you the story of the frog who dared to dream that he could change the frogville.”

"Too scary daddy!! Tim declared and hid himself under the quilt. Lee followed suit. They covered themselves and didn't even let their head out. Junxie Li stood up and went away. The story was indeed scary and that was all he could think of and quickly made up to tell them. Aren't they the ones who wanted a bedtime story before they could sleep. He sat on the sofa in the sitting room. And less than twenty minutes later, Ms Diddy walked out of the room. "Are they asleep?" Junxie Li asked and Ms Diddy nodded. "Since I don't know which fairy story their mother told them halfway, I sang them a poem and they drifted off to sleep.

He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed the top of her head. “My princess... always smelling wonderful.” He ran a hand through her hair. “What story would you like tonight?” Luna’s face lit up. The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear. Edgar picked up the book and read it slowly, changing his voice for each character, just as he always did. When he finished, he closed the book, said a prayer with her, kissed her forehead again, and tucked the blanket around her. “Sleep well, my princess.”

Marie knew of her tiny little girl, Aleta, who used to hop around on one foot to see if she could keep her balance, and stuck her naughty fingers into Marie’s jam, and would ask for a bedtime story even when it was nowhere near bedtime. “It doesn’t have to be a bedtime story, dear,” Marie would say, and her eyes would twinkle. Smiling Marie. Happy Marie. “A story told at any other time is simply a story.” Aleta, who had dark eyes like her mother, and dark hair like her mother, and it refused to be tamed and combed, also like her mother’s, would say, “But bedtime stories are the best. Won’t you please tell me one, Mama?”

He tried to soften his usual cold and deep voice, so he slowed down again, “One day, a little mermaid...” “Daddy, don’t you know how to tell stories?” The little girl flattened her lips as she muttered, aggrieved, “Nellie’s Daddy is so powerful, but he can’t tell stories...” Joshua fell silent as he sucked in a deep breath. “Let’s not listen to stories. Just go to sleep, okay?” “Not okay…” Tears started to roll down the Little Princess’s cheeks. “If I don’t listen to a story, I’ll get nightmares…”

It is not a long story so I will quickly tell you. It was a very sunny day but Bia had chosen to read the book again instead of playing outside. And as you know, when she saw the world "treasure" her curiosity made her read all the rules very carefully. When she finished she first thought that the last rule was written by her own father, because he could not open one eye after 9pm. But most important for her was the last forbition. To explain it we have to go a bit outside and a bit in the past.

I whispered with a loving smile, "which story would you like tonight?" Mathew's face lit up with excitement, his tiny hands reaching for his favorite book. "The one about the brave little wolf, Mumma!" I chuckled as I opened the book, a captivating story about a young wolf's grand adventure. Mathew listened with rapt attention, his eager eyes fixed on the pages as I spun the tale of bravery and exploration. By the time I reached the part where the little wolf found solace under the silvery glow of the moon, my son was already fast asleep.