Short-Story.Me!

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

Murder in Hyperspace

E-mail Print

“I didn’t do it!”

The three people looking into the room weren’t likely to believe him.

Ensign Chong Hwan had been the first to respond, when a long, blood-curdling scream had emanated from the stateroom.  A Farewell Party for recently promoted Lieutenant Tobias Long had been going on in the adjoining room.  Everyone in the party room – save Hwan – had frozen in place.

Hwan rushed forward immediately, grabbed the door handle, found it locked, and entered the key code.  By the time the door slid open, Long and his girlfriend, Penny Stuart, were at the door as well.

Read more...
 

Mama Don't Mess with Me

E-mail Print

Rhonda clocked me a good one on my cheek, this time cause I dissed her shitty personality.  I wisely resisted punching her out.  She was a mixed martial arts expert and I knew she could kill me with a well-placed hand breaking my larynx.

Fortunately, she felt she’d made her point, raped me, took forty bucks from my wallet and left. That’s my ex-girlfriend.  Bitch, beautiful but deadly, and I’d had enough.  Specially mad that she did the nasty and that I got it up in spite of myself.  She’s one foxy home girl, but that don’t give her call to break a rib like she did a month ago.

Read more...
 

The Broken Fairy of the Walnut Tree

E-mail Print

In a teeny tiny forest, in a teeny tiny land, there was a beautiful Walnut Tree reaching the stars with a majestic stand. This tree was not normal, it was a city of peace, where teeny tiny fairies lived happily and free. It’s fairies weren’t normal either, they worshipped nuts, and not just any nuts; but the Walnuts of the Tree.

Their national flag was a Walnut, with wings, very, very beautiful, teeny tiny fairy wings. Every inch of its city, was covered in nuts; swam around in NutLakes, and ate delicious NutCakes. Tiny old fairy men, with tired old wings, walked around with their NutStaffs, along all of the NutPaths. The fairies sung a long, beautiful NutSong, with big NutDrums, making a powerful NutTwang.

Read more...
 

Lake Wynonah

E-mail Print

Peter Kaufman pulled over to the side of the rural road and put the Toyota in park.  Opening the door, he got out and stretched his tired muscles.  The 253 mile long trip from Pittsburgh to Auburn, PA had taken just over 4 hours of time and Peter needed the break.  Looking up, he could see the shore of Lake Wynonah, the 1.7 mile long water basin which dominated his home town.

He fondly remembered playing along those shores, just a short distance from his parent’s house.  He was almost home.

Read more...
 

Train B-7

E-mail Print

A crowd gathered at Davenport, Iowa Train Station. Murmurs and hushes traveled through the peering heads. The attention of about a dozen pairs of eyes was caught by the argument taking place down on the train tracks. From above, the silver full moon stared down from a starless sky painted pitch black.

“Someone call the police. Please, I don’t have a cell phone.” Squeaked a skinny old lady with close-set eyes, a long beak-shaped nose and a green and white feathered hat; the latter only added to her bird-like features. But nobody paid any attention to the bird lady’s plea. The small crowd of travelers had their attention paid elsewhere.

Read more...
 

All In Your Head

E-mail Print

Upon hearing the whispers, Wendy immediately opened her eyes. Squinting, she notices the red numbers on her alarm clock read 2:04 A.M. Wendy holds her stuffed teddy bear Oswald, close. The wrinkles on the sides of her eyes straightened with the release of her squint, she lays in bed, in fear; another night, another series of unclaimed whispers. It’s been so many nights now that she can no longer remember the first time she heard these specks of voices.

Read more...
 

The Floormate

E-mail Print

We called him mental case. His parents abandoned him on moving day. They didn’t even help the hapless boy carry stuff into the dorms. He’d polish stones a lot. Other days he’d read books by a tall glass tank and feed crickets to his tarantula. Sometimes — mostly at night — I’d hear his bedsprings creaking like he was engaging in sexual intercourse, but he always slept alone.

Read more...
 

Two Lovers

E-mail Print

Staring at the neck of his wagon mule, holding reigns loosely in each hand, whispering a song he had herd in an inn three nights ago, the merchant rode. And as the merchant rode, the sun’s head slowly ducked behind the crest of a mountain, patiently reeling in its bright orange rays off the valley and over the rocky mountain ridge. Wind stirred in the evening air pushing the merchant’s cheap, dirty, tan cloak behind him and over his cart. This was the merchant’s second love. Solitude. Sweet solitude he would tell himself. He looked forward to the moments everyday.

Read more...
 

Shit on a Stick

E-mail Print

I’ve been around the Lower East Side of New York for a long time. I remember when SoHo was starting to go from industrial to trendy and the cry of the indigents was “SOHO SUCKS BRING BACK THE TRUCKS”.

I was witness to it all, buildings occupied by squatters in the East Village becoming million dollar condos almost overnight. Bodegas disappearing and fancy boutiques sprouting up in their place. An almost instant transportation of an entire neighborhood of people out of an area to be replaced by midwestern millennials.

It was amazing.

So when a local free throw away newspaper asked me to do a Readers Digest type of “The Most Memorable Person” piece about the old downtown world, I gave it some thought and this is what I came up with:

Read more...
 

Fish Hook

E-mail Print

Fine blonde hairs on taught limbs moved in the breeze. The door slammed down as the breeze left them and they were alone in the dark cold space where they no longer kept a car. The last of the day’s light reached them from beneath the metal door where it barely met the concrete below.

Back inside the house, a girl bent forward, opening the red velvet cape as she did so to create the effect of a curtain closing. A smaller, toga clad girl twirled around on one foot and stopped breathless, smiling widely up at her sister.

“Esther! Was I good, Esther?” she asked. Eyebrow raised, the girl threw off her cape and wrapped her arms around the breathless, warm bundle.

Read more...
 

Page 4 of 63

Sign Up for Short-Story.me Info!



Buy Featured Story Placement

Featured Stories

Written by: Maddison Cooper
The first night I’ll try absorbing the truth competing with the rain outside, ignoring the river mapping my face. The next... Read more..

Written by: Christo Frederick Crous
Derick Deaver was by definition an old man. The last door on the top floor of Canterbury Heights had been his home for the... Read more..

Written by: Matthew Spence
Jeff saw the lights flashing in his rear view mirror. This is it, he thought. One last chance. He knew it was risky. The... Read more..

Written by: Frankie Rembly
As Roscoe Mueller sat on the bed in his hotel room, flipping through the cable channels to find the porn, he experiences... Read more..




TOP OF PAGE