Storytelling Funny Novelas e Histórias

I want her here every morning, making me coffee while I cook her eggs. I want to watch those gold-flecked eyes peeking over the top of her mug as she tells me something brilliant. I want to earn that easy smile by saying something humorous. Record scratch, I'm not funny guy. I never say anything humorous except I had in the Elevator. I'd made her laugh then, Around her I turn into someone else. Someone better, You're not the bad guy.

The wind had completely died down now. “Oh! I apologize,” He tried to calm himself and took a deep breath, “The purpose of writing these stories and passing them down is to let the oncoming generation know what kind of things can happen to us, what we have in us that makes us different from other people and the mistakes we shouldn't make-” He started snickering again, “The funny part is,” He tried to control his giggles, “We still end up in deep shit each time.” He started laughing out loud after that. He laughed so hard he fell to the side and laid on the grass with his hands over his face which he slowly brought up to move his hair back.

While the teacher read my essay to the class they laughed out loud pointing fingers at me . The laughter intensified when the teacher read the part about me sipping hot cocoa and talking to my golden retriever . Some called me stupid while others said I needed to see a doctor to check if everything was alright in my head . At this point the teacher could not control the class . She gave up and they continued throwing words at me . I was at the brick of tears that was until a guy from behind my chair moved forward and held my hand , he consoled me . He was the first person to do that after Louisiana had left . For the first time I felt someone other than my parents and Louisiana cared . He we

"Okay, okay. Maia, make sure you scream nice and loud so I can enjoy the show too," Raul said. They said long-haul truckers were a crude bunch. I was seeing it firsthand now. I couldn't believe the things coming out of their mouths. My face was burning a deep crimson. For the rest of the day, I lay on the sleeper berth in the back while the two men chatted up front. Most of their conversation consisted of raunchy jokes and dirty talk. I tried to act uninterested, but they were so loud that every word reached my ears.

I finish, and I scratch the top of my lip, trying not to laugh at the looks everyone is giving me. The expressions of stunned silence mixed with utter bewilderment and disbelief are the funniest thing ever. Granted, I do it often, but it never ceases to amuse me. “Uh, that’s…uh, yeah. Can I be frank?” Wyatt asks, running his hand over his scruff, still looking very perplexed. I fight a smile. “Yes.” “That sounds like a bullshit bedtime story, no offence.”

I said calmly. His lips finally broke out in a grin. “Of course, Sira. I’m going to tell you a story, and you will forget all about your pain in no time.” I cocked my head to the side, in a bit to humour him. He took the bait like I knew he would, and launched into a story about two wolves. I was only half listening to it, but still the sound of Cancil’s voice slowly put me at ease. I smiled when he did, and even tried to laugh, though it sounded weird even to my ears. I figured that if I actually laughed, I would simply burst into tears. So, I stuck the fake smiles and tried my best to look invested in what he was saying.

Liam had an uncanny ability to infuse laughter and light-heartedness into any situation. His jokes, witty remarks, and playful banter seemed to dissolve the weariness of the physical work we were engaged in. The repetitive strokes of the paintbrush and the meticulous care required to refurbish the furniture might have been tiring, but Liam's humor was a refreshing reprieve. It kept us going, and his ability to make even mundane tasks feel like fun was a testament to his infectious spirit.

Jim chuckles, adding his own twist to the tale, "Well, speaking of rain, I remember this one time when our family camping trip turned into a muddy adventure. We ended up making the best mud pies, and Mom was not happy about it!" Jonathan, intrigued, leans in and shares, "Rain seems to be the theme tonight. You know, back in college, there was this legendary prank involving a rain machine. Let me tell you, that story still makes me laugh." Laughter echoes through the room as we dive into one amusing story after another. The living room, once a serene space, now resonates with the joyous sound of shared narratives. Each tale unfolds like a piece of a puzzle, contributing to the colorful mosaic

“I might not have read your script, but with the way you spoke about it, I'm pretty sure it's brilliant and it'll do brilliantly well.” My gaze lifted to see him stunned with his eyes wide opened like I had told a ghost story. He blinked, then smiled. “That's actually quite encouraging. Thanks. I guess you're not that weird after all.” I scoffed. “I guess you're not that tough after all.” Several minutes later, we were still seated, having a great conversation. He narrated a story where he almost got beaten to death after pretending to have a gun so he could scare away some robbers. Somehow, he found a way to make the story hilarious, my amusement making my stomach hurt as I laughed heartily

"In the meantime, we can still have some fun. How about a couple of stories? Well, we have plenty of funny and interesting stories from our time here." I gave them an appreciative smile and looked up at them. "How about you guys tell me a story? That might keep my mind off stuff." Aurelia smiled and began recounting an incident from the past. "Well, there was this one time that one of the visiting pack leaders got his foot stuck in a bucket. He was trying to act all serious and dignified, but he was hopping around like a rabbit. It was so hard not to laugh!" I chuckled, my mind conjuring up the scene. "That does sound funny."