Short-Story.Me!

  • Increase font size
  • Default font size
  • Decrease font size
Best Stories on the Web

The Third Avenue Caper

E-mail Print

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.

Read more...
 

How Blue is my Sapphire?

E-mail Print

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?

Read more...
 

Quick Fix

E-mail Print

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.

Read more...
 

So, You Wanna be a Cop?

E-mail Print

As told by Dr. Mitchell Jacobs, Chairman of Media Studies who is substituting tonight for Professor Francis Neptune’s “Interpersonal Communication” class. Frankie is an adjunct liberal arts professor at a small local college. The students are mostly Criminal Justice majors. Frankie is attending a Racket (copspeak for retirement party) for one of his former colleagues from the NYPD.

Read more...
 

Eye Candy

E-mail Print

I remember the first night we met.

I told you that you had the most amazing eyes.

You smiled and blushed.

You were so beautiful.

After some small talk you finally agreed to dinner.

Our first date still warms my heart.

Read more...
 

It Takes One to Know One

E-mail Print

Tadeusz Mikloski grew up in the cultural cocoon of the Polish Immigrant community in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. He always unquestionably resisted assimilation into the majority American mainstream. That was paramount to his existence. Then suddenly questions started to pop. But how long could self control last?

Read more...
 

Restless

E-mail Print

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.

Read more...
 

The Man of Her Dreams

E-mail Print

Virtually every New Yorker believes that the worse the weather, the harder it is to get a cab. Tonight was bitter cold, and the only taxis Esther saw had their “Off Duty” signs lit. She had just about decided to walk the two long blocks to the subway station when she heard a car horn honking.

The driver pulled over to the curb and rolled down his window. He looked familiar.

“Esther, right? You were at the party.”

“Yeah?”

Read more...
 

Mitawin

E-mail Print

Cal and Carrie Dodd, each twenty five, left their apartment at 9:00 AM and loaded their car with camping equipment. “It looks like we have everything we’ll need for a week. There’s plenty of food in the coolers, and we can always catch some fish,” Carrie said.”

“I have my hunting knife, and I put the hatchet in the back. We might have to chop some fire wood. I guess we have everything, Carrie, so let’s go camping.”

Read more...
 

Unicorns and Sparkles

E-mail Print

Twilight Sparkle! You're so pretty.

My mom says I'm beautiful, but I don't think I can ever be as beautiful as Twilight. She says I'm pretty. I think I'm pretty too, when I wear my dancing dress. I love to dance, and spin around. You should watch me spin – I'll jump too, and I can make a pirouette.

Read more...
 


Page 3 of 66

Sign Up for Short-Story.me Info!



Buy Featured Story Placement


Featured Stories

Written by: Saul Greenblatt
In 1950, Carl Bower, a thirty five year-old wildcatter, stopped drilling for oil at noon and he and his helpers took a lunch... Read more..

Written by: L. Christopher Hennessy
Sirens wail beyond my window, the red and blue lights slipping in the rain. I'll go walking soon, because my nights are ... Read more..

Written by: Zoe Powell
Once upon a time, yo, I was droppin’ these mad beats. I mean, my jams were killer, man. It was Tommy Finkelstein’s bar... Read more..