Short Story Novels & Stories

I'm bad luck to everyone. My parents were killed when I was only five years old because I had snuck out of the house and they couldn't find me. I wanted to see the shooting stars I heard some older kids talking about, but my parents wouldn't let me. They went the wrong way and were attacked by a group of men who thought it would be fun to shoot kangaroos.

Boys and their dead jokes. Just as Rand put his hand on the doorknob, I saw Kade glance down. His eyes locked onto the lace on the floor. In one smooth motion, he bent down and palmed my panties, shoving them into his pocket. *Oh, fuck.* He saw them. “What was that?” Rand asked, turning back. “Handkerchief,” Kade answered without missing a beat. His voice was calm, too calm. He was such a smooth liar. Since when did he carry a handkerchief?

~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.

Yet, now, dozens of unread messages had flooded her screen, the notification count still climbing. Evelyn's eyes widened in surprise. Clicking into them, she quickly realized that nearly all of them were about Matteo. "Matteo's seriously messed up. Didn't he get his one true love back? Now that you're gone, he suddenly woke up and realized your worth. Please. What does he think this is, some dramatic novel where the jerk hero gets a second chance?

One would think her humorous tales were just for laughs or to pad the word count, but by the conclusion, it became evident that she was laying out foreshadows throughout. While working on her first novel, "Mizzy" also wrote several short pieces, each around two thousand words, which she simultaneously published on ScribeSphere and shared on social media platforms. These bite-sized stories, light-hearted and humorous in tone, could be devoured in mere minutes. Their appeal was evident when they were repeatedly shared across platforms, gaining her a good number of followers. However, many read her short stories without noting the author behind them, completely unaware of "Mizzy."

“I have a book I think you might enjoy." "What is it about?" I asked him curiously. "Most servants can't read. I usually read for them." "It's a book of short stories. Most are fairy tales- Half-fish people want to be full people. A princess trying to beat her pre-destined fate. Children who are abandoned in the woods try to find their way home. There are several stories within the book." "Sounds interesting," I replied, watching Bart rejoin us. I got up quickly to help him with the trays.

She laughed and thought to herself "my weakness is teachers". -Well, I already told you my whole life story. Of course, when she told her life story she didn't include Gabriel. -Well look my life is not that interesting it is very common I have a family that does not live here my family is European I came to visit this country and I stayed here my family is a very traditionalist family they come from time to time to see me and I also go there from time to time I have two more brothers they live with my parents and I am a professor at several universities, so as you see my life is not very interesting.

We never got to see how they lived happily though, but the smile in the last scene after which the The End, flew or swivelled or zoomed in, made it obvious. Nisim did tell me later that The Thief was a short story and short stories ended that way! It was five pages long, much longer than the stories in the book Deuta had gifted me on my eleventh Birthday – Aesop’s Fables – the stories in this book were never more than two pages. And always with a moral at the end. The Thief didn’t have a moral – that was the best part though – I never liked memorizing morals. But the thing was, my brother was calling the longest story I had read till then, a

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A man hit by a car in New York in 1977 got up uninjured, but lay back down in front of the car when a bystander told him to pretend he was hurt so he could collect the insurance money. The car then rolled forward and crushed him 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!