Stone Soup Book Read Online Novels & Stories

“If you don’t drink this, you’re not having anything else. I don’t know what kind of meat Samson has in that pot, but it smells amazing. So drink up.” He begrudgingly reached for the bowl and drank the rest down in big gulps, his face pinched the whole time. I’d only had a small taste of it and it was truly foul, so I was impressed he didn’t bring it all back up again. I picked up my book near the window and stayed there most of the day. Josh dozed on and off, but Samson’s broth seemed to do the trick. By nightfall, he had taken a shower in the rain and dressed himself.

Klaus would think I stay there only for the pup. I went to the river for the first time since Jackson took me. I was nervous, and I sniffed the air, but there was nothing that smelled of danger around. Shift back and threw myself into the river. The water was cold, and I swam up and down until my muscles ached. I went back home and got a sandwich from the kitchen. I didn't feel like having lunch. I went to the bedroom and looked for an e-book to read on my new tablet. I chose “My Best Friend & I,” a short erotic story by A.P. Morgan that would take me all afternoon to read.

I’d picked up a few new Stephen King novels last month at the used book sale at Bassler Memorial Library, so I figured on starting one of them. So I was surprised to find myself sitting up in my chair, blinking as if coming out of a long sleep, with The Way open in my lap, reading about “invoking the spirit of Ah-Tzenul through the nourishment of the sow’s blood.” I sat there and stared at The Way, wondering how the hell I’d gone and read it when I’d wanted to read something else. Also, how could I sit there for a whole hour and a half reading without remembering what I’d read!

“No vampire.” “What other creatures go into hiding from people?” Alison asked as she continued to stuff her mouth. “If you don’t pay attention to how much food you’re shoveling in that gob of yours, you’ll end up choking to death,” Wilma scolded. With pinkened cheeks, Alison set her spoon down, chewed the food in her mouth, and swallowed hard. “Sorry,” she said. She may have spoken harshly, but, in truth, Wilma was delighted to see how much Alison enjoyed her cooking. “I’m glad you like it.”

I watched as Sophia lifted a spoon to her lips with an impassive look on her face, then scrunched up her nose in disgust; "This taste horrible! It's bitter." "What? No way! After all the delicacies we had her try, she found my cooking to be the best. She almost emptied the whole pot." Mr. Shenko defended his dish in amusement causing Sophia as well to jolt into simultaneous laughter. Their voices echoed throughout the mansion, "I'm about to open a world's first class noodle soup only restaurant you know!" "Oh really now? So try it then, Mr. World chef." Sophia mocked back at him, "What?"

It was a hard-core p**n magazine. "Oooohh", she cooed, "I like this". She said as she grabbed the book from me and started to flip the pages. A few momemts of us sitting next to another, looking at pictures of people sucking and fucking, men fucking women, women fingering women, I could tell I was hard as hell and kept refraining from touching her ass with my hand. As she looked at each page, she moved herself back and onto my awaiting hand so I could feel her ass on my fingers. .

Vera said, unwrapping one of the potatoes. Steam rose from it, thick and warm, filling the shack with a smell so simple and impossible that every person in the room stopped moving. It smelled like hot earth, fire, salt, and comfort. The potato skin was slightly crisp, split open where the heat had broken it, and the inside was soft, golden, and fluffy enough that it almost fell apart when Vera pressed her thumb into it. After years of liquid packs, bitter supplements, recycled water, and food that tasted more like survival than life, that smell hit the room harder than any speech could have.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x how was the chappy? you are welcome to express your thoughts in the comment section and please add this book to your library, Happy Reading!

I look… like a person being loved on purpose. Back in the living room, I fold the old T-shirt I’d been sleeping in and place it on the arm of the couch like I’m ceremonially laying the morning to rest. I tuck my legs under me, blanket over my knees, and pick up the top book. First page, first line—clean and sharp, the kind of writing that makes you forget you have a body until your stomach nudges and says, “Hello? Soup?” All right, fine. Soup.

Elijah never imagined this was the purpose behind the old man's purchase. "Grandpa, are you sure it's safe?" Shane held the soup, eyeing him in disbelief. When did the old man become so peculiar? The old man lowered his head and pondered, "You should trust what Aunt Brie made!" Shane nearly spit out the soup. Why was this soup so spicy after taking a sip? ***