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Best Stories on the Web
All genres, all writers, all here.

Here, on Short-Story.me we publish only the highest quality stories from great writers around the world. To have work published on Short-Story.me is testament to the finest writing ability. Once published, we share your success with others, announce your achievement on Twitter, and give good writing, great publicity. The site receives in excess of 300,000 page views per month and is the number one site on search engines for various genres.

We have a category for everyone. So why not sharpen your skills, your pencil and your wits and commit that story to paper? Give our followers what they want to read and get your name in front of thousands of readers every week.

Best of luck in your writing endeavors.

 
 

Seeking Redemption

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“Are you guys in?”  The blonde boy looked at his two friends, hoping to see a confirmation from them that they accepted his plan.  The two boys nodded back and got into the black Chevy Cruze for the short drive to Becky Summers’ house.  The coordinator of the plan was Corey Williams, the star quarterback of the Tyler High football team and Becky’s boyfriend.  It was Becky’s birthday and Corey’s plan was for a simple birthday wish to be passed on from the three boys.

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Politically Incorrect Cops -1989

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Jimmy was in a bad mood. I could tell someone was going to get their ass handed to them tonight. They’ll land up in Bellevue Hospital.....turbanized, you know, with their head wrapped up, punjab style. Who needs the aggravation? Who needs the paperwork?

This was our fourth midnight tour. The street scum have been getting more and more on Jimmy’s nerves. They’ve become increasingly ballsy since David Dinkins was elected Mayor of New York City.

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Memories of Heidi

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1982...

 

It was only a light rain and had started to fall in the afternoon. By now it was growing dark. The Police had already removed her small body from the shallow grave, which was beside the train tracks, near the paper mill, where her father worked.

The Police were horrified by her injuries and were busy in discussion about how they had failed her and which one of them would notify her parents.

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An Evening to Remember

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Tom Dudley tapped his fingers on his desk in his Advanced English 11 room as he waited for the class to begin.  The 16 year old boy was a good looking, hard-working student who pretty much stayed within a small circle of friends due to extreme shyness.  Not one to socially approach any of the girls in Marshall High School, he was taken off guard when Jill Babcock came over and sat beside him.

“Hi Tom.  Got a minute?”  The cute brunette with straight, silk-like hair was leaning in towards him.

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The Five Pilchards

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Fishing nets hung lose from the ceiling. Pictures of old ships covered the walls. Low wooden beams and large sturdy tables painted a picture of stout, little Cornish fisherman drinking to their long time at sea.

I rested my aching feet. The amber coloured beer, of a peculiar name, was sweet nectar to my parched mouth. A packet of cheese and onion crisps quelled the hunger pains from walking the coastal path for three hours.

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Twinkle Twinkle

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The night lay silent on June Carter Street as the shadow moved through the woods. The wind blew gently, bending the flowers in Mrs. Johnson’s garden. Theirs was the last house on the street. The house had been uninhabited for years before the Johnsons bought it. Mr. Johnson had been quite happy buying the house at a cheap price; he had given the realtor a generous tip.

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A Bad Joke (3)

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The hunter's hand gripped his saw blade, preparing himself for an attack.

 

The creature had lunged out from the darkness, all teeth and claws … but somehow he was deterred. It was not the fear of the hunter; this creature seemed as fearless as the hunter was. He was curious to why another vampire was traveling so casually alongside a human, prey. "Curious scent, this," said the vampire, sniffing the air.

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Confessions of a Victim

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"I know it must be hard for you, after everything that has happened, Brody. It always pains us when we have to make victims such as yourself relive such traumatic events, but please, can you help us by telling me what happened?"

Brody Williams, a boy of fifteen, sat shivering, seated at a metallic table in an interview room, a cup of cheap coffee steaming up into the cold air. "It's cold," said the boy. "And dark."

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