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Best Stories on the Web
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Here, on we publish only the highest quality stories from great writers around the world. To have work published on 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.


The Clarinet Conspiracy

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Larry felt like a four-year-old trying to read a book. He knew the symbols had been carefully inscribed on the page by a great practitioner, but they might have been sneezed in ink for all he could tell.

He had begun to regret joining his adult music class. Even if he could figure out what the notes meant, how could anybody ever expect to work a contraption like this clarinet?


The Dog-Gone Caper

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Charlie pointed to the right.  “There’s the house, or should I say mansion – must be at least twenty rooms.  When Ms Lydia Langtry said we couldn’t miss it with the twin gables, she was right.  Now to find out about her dog knapping.”

Jimmy steered their Toyota Prius up the hill on the paved driveway leading to the mansion.  The green grass showed nary a weed.  He pulled up next to a BMW and shut off his car’s engine.  His eyes followed the contours of the mansion up three stories.


The Third Avenue Caper

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Sean O’Mera owns an old time neighborhood Irish bar on Third Avenue: Jimmy’s Place. He loves it. He’s been running it for more than twenty years. The real estate people are always bugging him to sell. But Sean has resisted all the money they continually offer. He still honors his deceased father Jimmy’s commandment: “Never sell the building or the Bar... This is Jimmy’s Place!”

This old building outlasted the Third Avenue Elevated line. In some nooks and crannies you’ll find dust that’s way over seventy years old.


Quick Fix

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It began to rain. The narrow streets were poorly lit. Keith wanted to walk more quickly, but was afraid he would get lost. He could barely recognize the area. The old bakery on the corner was closed, as was the shoe repair shop next door, though the blinking sign above the darkened shop window was still on. The next block consisted of a vacant lot. Keith looked around for a bus stop, but couldn’t find one. The streets were empty—not a single person, or even a stray dog or cat could be seen.



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Aries, Aquarius and Virgo... All star signs, but what if I were to tell you that they were so much more.. That they were legend.


Centuries before you and I, a war spawning decades between the two realms of Eelry raged the land. With great battles between the southern and northern lands, civil war crippled the population, leading to countless deaths, ruined cities and disease.


The Missing Shoe

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"Are you sure that's all that's missing?"

The detective looked inquisitively at the teary socialite. "Yes officer. That's all that was taken."  Detective Miller shook his head as he looked around the plush penthouse apartment. Who gets robbed of a single high heal shoe??


How Blue is my Sapphire?

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All of us live with our past. All of us allow it to shape our future. But some of us know how to shrug the past. I think that is who I am. Maybe because of the realization, as to how unredeemable a yesterday is and as to how inevitable the future is. The present is all I have. It is a series of this present, that the past and future have too. If so, what is my present?



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It couldn’t have been long…or, at least that was Jerimiah’s best guess. The fact that he was still alive was a clear indication of that.  Blackness; nothing but dense darkness surrounded him. He tried to maneuver but the space was limited, in fact he was barely able to separate his arms from his body. Lifting his hand he jammed his thumb on the roof which was only inches above him. Several times he banged on the roof as hard as he could; the stiff sound of his strikes unable to resonate through the uncertain surface that lay on top of him.

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