Short-Story.Me!

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

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...
 

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...
 

Embedding a Spy

E-mail Print

“Too ugly. Too tall. Too fat.” Lord Marikh walked down a row of slaves, he was followed by his scribe Tryll. Marikh had yet to impress the Almighty with a gift, he hoped he’d find one today. “Ahh! Why is this one even here? I’ve seen at least fifty girls and only one has been worthy so far.”

“Milord,” Tryll said, “the seller has one with him. She is, uh, exceptionally beautiful, but I think that um she might be a bit too costly. I heard him say, well uh, he called her Jazmin.” Tryll looked to the ground when Marikh turned to him.

Read more...
 

A New Beginning

E-mail Print

Sarah Dunn, a thirty-five-year-old teacher, sat on the examining table as the doctor explained her situation.  “Sarah, I know why you’ve been feeling so awful lately. The tests show that you have a degenerative muscle disease. I have to be blunt. The weakness is going to increase. Eventually, probably in a year, the weakness will make it difficult for you to do ordinary tasks. There are medications to slow the process, and exercise will help.

Read more...
 

Happpy Birthday To Me

E-mail Print

It was my 30th birthday and my wife, Clara, had planned a camping trip to celebrate it. She knew that I loved to camp, but she wasn’t really into it. She loved the idea of it, but not the actual process of it. My wife liked to be pampered with all of the comforts of home, so spending a week in a tent outdoors was probably the last thing she wanted to do. No cell phones, no tv, no laptops, just pure nature. I loved her for doing this for me.

Read more...
 

The Egg

E-mail Print

The wind swept across the island like a scythe.  Mary Greene sat in her dimly lit kitchen cradling her nine month old baby.  The boy mewed softly.  Mary knew the infant was hungry, but because of the inclement weather it had been impossible to reach the mainland and the food cupboards were becoming barer as each day passed.  She looked at the empty shelves and sighed wearily.  The boy had refused the weak, milky porridge she had provided for breakfast.  Would he refuse the same for his lunch?  She fervently hoped he would be hungry enough to eat it.

Read more...
 

Two Minutes

E-mail Print

Time. 10:19 p.m. South Florida. The traffic light rests at red for an eternity, mocking me with its condescending gaze.  I quickly turned my head both directions, not a car in sight for what it seemed to be miles.  Is this some kind of joke?  Looking into the rear view mirror, nothing there by me.  James Montgomery. Glasses, brown hair, green sweater vest, and an untrimmed beard.  Some people say I resemble a young Robin Williams from Good Will Hunting.  I’ll take that as a compliment. A journalist of ten years at the same section in the local newspaper. The only thing I’ve done differently in the time span is learn Spanish.

Read more...
 

A Change of Heart

E-mail Print

Scott Dashwood was a handsome boy of 13, growing up in the eastern suburbs of Cleveland.  Just a month shy of this 14th birthday, Scott had been working all summer at the local golf course to earn spending money for his freshman year in high school.  He anticipated high school with dread, fearful of being one of the new boys on campus, exposed to the normal teasing and taunting present at Woodrow Wilson High.

Read more...
 

Goodbye Rose

E-mail Print

When I think about my Rose, I picture her on our wedding day. I will never forget the way her amber eyes glistened through the lacework of her veil like the sun piercing through puffy white clouds. How her thick, ebony hair fell in waves against her frosted gown and was as dauntless as her character and as dominant as the night’s sky. My hands were damp from nervous sweat. My knees were untrustworthy. I gazed into the fire of her eyes through prisms of joyful tears.

Read more...
 

The Sun and The Moon

E-mail Print

From their conception they have constantly been a great distance from each other, but they had always been able to communicate. Like most love stories they started out slow and shy. Stolen glances here and small smiles there. But as time progressed their interaction became bolder, conversations began go on and on, they were not constrained by time, they were simply left to get to know each other. As their conversations grew and their bond became unbreakable the Sun became desperate.

Read more...
 
  • «
  •  Start 
  •  Prev 
  •  1 
  •  2 
  •  3 
  •  4 
  •  5 
  •  6 
  •  7 
  •  8 
  •  9 
  •  10 
  •  Next 
  •  End 
  • »

Page 1 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