Slice Of Life Novels & Stories

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The

She got up and gave me a hug. "It's all over. Live for yourself from now on." It was something so simple, even an outsider understood. And yet, it had taken me six whole years to finally wake up. Fortunately, it still wasn't too late.

“This is a mess.” “Yeah, life as a whole is a big mess. But you know what makes this mess of a life bearable?” Mia raised her head and looked at her, but Bianca hadn't looked away from that muffin. “Living.” She finally looked away and regarded Mia with kind eyes. She picked one muffin and threw it at Mia. She caught it, not taking her eyes off Bianca. “Living makes life bearable, Mia, love. I'm not talking about simply existing—just drawing breath into your lungs and living on autopilot. I'm talking about real living. Seeing the beauty in every damn little thing. Like how this muffin is so good, I could cry from my overflowing love for it.”

A pulse of something monstrous, familiar, alive. But no. Even that’s gone. My fingers tighten on the knife, slicing through the zucchini like it owes me something. My jaw aches from clenching. My eyes sting for no reason. Then—slip. The blade nicks my skin. It’s not deep. But it bleeds. A thin line of red rises across my knuckle. I stare at it, half waiting for it to close up like it always used to. For the skin to stitch itself together with a hiss and a flash of heat.

"Miss, hold on. We will save you." I fought to keep my eyes open, refusing to let myself slip into unconsciousness. However, my awareness began to fade, and I could feel the warmth of my blood draining away. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, and in that final, fleeting moment before darkness took me, I wondered why it hurt so much. Despite spending seven years as his wife, when it came down to life and death, he chose someone else without a second thought. In the haze, I heard someone calling my name.

It is a really deep pain. "Ouch!" I shout. I do not know if a woman can give birth before her time, but I am sure it is possible. The knife slides into the cake, dividing it into two. And now we were only supposed to cut one piece, and we were not supposed to cut half the cake! However, it is now too late as the cake falls into two pieces. Nobody seems to be upset about a cake. Everybody looks at me. Everyone was looking at me, who was shouting out in pain.

I needed the perfect reason to give away that slice. "I love all of you!" I began. "But sometimes life puts very random people in our path, people who, thinking about it, normally wouldn't enter our lives and wouldn't have the slightest chance of becoming so special." I cut the first slice of cake and divided it into two pieces, placing one on each small plate. Then I continued.

Paul joked as he reached for a slice. I laughed, feeling a sense of warmth spread through me. This was what I wanted—a home filled with people I cared about, with simple moments of shared laughter and food. I passed out the beers and grabbed a juice box for the kids, who were already eagerly diving into their pizza slices. The next few hours passed in a blur of conversation, laughter, and the occasional clink of beer bottles. It was nice, this sense of normalcy, of being surrounded by family and friends. For a moment, I allowed myself to forget about the outside world—the pressures, the challenges, the constant fight to protect what I had built.

she toasted, her voice filled with emotion. Everyone raised their glasses, clinking them together in a symbol of unity and hope. The rest of the evening passed with stories and laughter, the bonds between them growing stronger with every shared moment. The incident with the cut had already faded into a small, insignificant blip in an otherwise perfect night. Skylar looked around the table, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Life, with its unexpected twists and turns, had brought them all to this beautiful moment, and she couldn’t have been happier.

As I reach for the milk, I notice the empty carton, a stark reminder of our meager existence. Undeterred, I rummage through the pantry, searching for any remnants of sustenance. A half-empty box of cereal and a few slices of stale bread catch my eye. With a sigh, I decide to make do with what little we have. I toast the bread, watching as it turns a golden brown, a small victory amidst the chaos that engulfs our lives.