Shrinking Story นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I have seen somewhere once the most dumbass man said, "True Narrator never narrates the whole story in the right order...,?" Author's note - People often ask me, why do I use " ...,? " this kind of punctuation to end any statement? It's because I think and believe, there's no full stop in the end of a sentence and if it is there, then probably the sentence/story isn't ended yet or maybe there's a comma to restart the story after a break but why a question mark? Because there's zero possibility of knowing next...,? His 2 Story !! Book 1 - I'm A Curse...,? Volume - 0 X - xperiment X - xpect X - xperience

Surely, I was too small to hold this key properly and use it on the doors, I could barely reach the top of the table that was now bigger than me. I looked around hoping to find anything that could solve this predicament and spotted a little cupcake on the floor close to the table that had a tag; ‘eat me’. I picked it up and had a few bites of it and once again a familiar tingle I felt but this time my makeshift dress stretched against my body and this time, I was growing bigger. I grew and grew till my head lightly bumped the ceiling of the circular room. I reached for the key squatting fully to pick it up and walked to each door trying the key until I got to a small one that clicked unlocke

“He would not wish you to endanger yourself. Nor do I.” Tears streamed from Leesa’s eyes as she watched the table shrink, taking her friend with it. She wondered if it would continue to grow smaller and smaller until eventually it vanished completely. Cali, Jenna and Rave’s volkaane comrades came over to stand by her side. Cali took Leesa’s hand and squeezed it, lending silent support in this heartbreaking moment. No one said anything—no words could possibly be any comfort right now. The table stopped shrinking when it was barely four inches in diameter. Leesa knelt down and reached out carefully toward it, stopping when her fingers were but a fraction of an inch away. Rave knelt beside her,

That day, Joshua gave me a call. "Sheila's parents helped her out with some cash, and she's opened a tiny flower shop on the edge of town. Feel like dropping by to congratulate her?" I was tending to my peace lily, and I let out a chuckle. "That won't be necessary. She's nobody important." My little studio had blossomed into one of the hottest design firms around, with gigs stretching from coast to coast. I had snagged myself a shiny new pad and a sweet ride, and even got my parents to move in close by.

Said he didn’t know what he was doing, but he showed up every morning anyway. That was enough. And me? I moved out of the city. Not far. Just enough to feel the air shift—to breathe a little deeper. The nights were quieter out here. The stars were clearer. I found a job at a small bookstore that always smelled like coffee and old pages. It was the kind of place where time slowed down. It was peaceful. It was mine. I started writing again. Not about Damien. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But about hope. About beginnings. About the kind of love that survives even after everything burns down.

Stories rewritten. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t shrinking to survive it. I was standing still. Letting the ground shake.

There would be nothing left but emptiness. After that, my father never showed up again. One day, Little Zoe came home carrying a letter and a cake. My mother showed me the letter. It contained the address of the house my father had promised, along with a bank card that had two hundred million dollars in it. We did not move there. We never touched a single cent of that money. The following winter, I saw news from Harbor City on television. Rowan Xanders, a prominent entrepreneur, had died at the age of twenty-nine from an old injury.

A couple had just moved into a small castle they'd recently purchased and were excitedly searching all the nooks and crannies. In a large underground room they found many empty barrels that had been drunk years ago,but one that appeared to be full. They immediately put a tap on it,and out poured delicious brandy. They drank and served it at parties, enjoying not only its flavour ,but the fact that it could have been hundreds of years old. Months later when the brandy stopped flowing,they noticed that the barrel was still too heavy to be empty. They cut it open with a saw,and found A SHRIVELLED CORPSE CURLED UP IN THE BOTTOM!

That wand definitely looks like it can be magical. "Is it true that a man's penis shrinks when he's in cold water? If that's the case, you might want to stay out. I wouldn't want that thing to get any smaller. I may need a magnifying glass to find it." Alan looks at me in disbelief.

Resh! I heard my name called out twice. First it was Bridda. Followed by Aaron, her cousin. I turned to them with the most innocent look I can master. "Yes?" "Mind explaining what you were doing in that car?" I gave Bridda a foolish grin and scratched my head. "I am trying to convince BossStudio to take on the story I am writing. " "Woow! Big dreams man! You think they'd pay attention to a story from a nobody like you?" Here goes the greatest sarcasm of all times.