Short Story Reading Novels & Stories

"That the people who stay are the ones who were supposed to." He looked at the book. "Not the ones who were convenient. Not the ones who were merely suitable." He looked back at her. "The ones who were supposed to." She sat with that for a long moment. Then: "Read it to me." He looked at her. "It's a children's book." "I know," she said. "Read it to me." Something moved in his expression. "All right," he said. He opened the book. He read it in twenty minutes—the whole of it, slowly, in the kitchen with the September evening at the windows and the south garden doing its seasonal work and the house quiet around them in the way it was quiet on Friday evenings when it was simply being held by th

Chapter 1: Caught in the Act I straddled on Professor Blake’s lap in his office, my short plaid skirt shoved up around my waist, my soaked black panties hanging off one ankle like a dirty little trophy. His thick cock was buried deep inside my dripping pussy, stretching me open as I rocked my hips in slow, lazy circles, taking every inch of him with each roll. I’d never been one for hitting the books hard. Studying felt like torture, so I’d found a much more appealing way to keep my grades up, and it was simple, riding my professor raw for hours. And it happened to work every single time.

“Mommy has to read a story.” I smiled faintly. “You’re still excited to read a story, even though you were sleepy earlier?” “Of course. Just one story.” Noah raised a finger, his face very serious. Liam chuckled. “Just one short story, okay? You have school tomorrow.” Noah nodded quickly. “Okay.” I took a thin book from the nightstand, his favorite animal picture book. I opened it to the first page and began reading softly. Noah rested his head on my shoulder, his eyes half-closed, but his lips still smiling.

I’m learning, improving, and building this story in real time, and having even one reader who sticks around makes it worth it. So, welcome. Enjoy the story, take your time with it, and feel free to share your thoughts as you read along. — RINA BALDWIN

The old woman shivered and held her paper bag close to her chest. “Can’t you hear me? "Keith exploded. “Please let me go. I have very less money and I’m a needy person. I have purchased my bread for tomorrow morning. Please have piety on me!” The old woman cried with teary eyes. “This is the last time I'm warning you to hurry up” Keith moved the knife closer to her face. The old woman took out her valet but kept it in her hand. “Please” The old woman begged. The tension between them increased and Keith pushed the old lady down the road and snatched her valet. He ran away as fast as he could and didn’t turn around.

His attention to Alexander's detailed literary analysis was complete and patient, even though I could see the exhaustion in the careful way he held himself. "Story time," I announced when everyone was properly pajama-ed and settled in the bedroom. "Can Kyle read to us?" Alexander asked, his voice already drowsy but still hopeful. I looked at Kyle, who was sitting on the edge of Alexander's bed . "Would you like to?" Kyle nodded, accepting the book Alexander thrust into his hands. It was the story about the little wolf who thought he was a puppy. I listened from the doorway as Kyle read.

he says smiling back at me, I asked him if he needed any help. "No, I'm just here to read, if you're not busy you're welcome to join me," he says inviting me to sit next to him in the reading area, there wasn't much of a crowd giving me a chance to sit down with him. "Let's go sit then," he says picking a story, it wasn't the same one he was reading as before, this was more like babies' stories I get my snacks from my bag and came back to sit down with him. At first, my adult self was wondering why he chose a Childers book but little me didn't care. I let him read the story with me right next to him. I was so entranced with the story until I felt something warm go down my princess area, I kn

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 short story! By then, though, I had some idea of a

she added without waiting for a reply. "Aunty hand bag , go and read your books. I wonder how you will pass your exams"Her mother bawled. They talked for what seems like forever before Hussain entered his mother's room. He greeted her happily. "Hussain, why didn't you tell your wife about the journey" his mother scolded him.

Alie The invitation says Conversation on Story: Building Worlds for Real Life which is the kind of title that makes you feel smart while you drink tea out of a paper cup and pretend the folding chair isn’t a folding chair. The bookstore is small, all honeyed wood and lamps that try to be kind. Someone strung twinkle lights between nonfiction and essays, like stars got cozy in the ceiling.