-The best stories on the web-
Read or link to over 1000 stories listed under Stories to the left.
Submit your short stories for review as a Word document attached to an email to: Read@Short-Story.Me

Latest Stories

November 27, 2025
General Stories Abdul Basit

When Ego Finally Melted

Life in Dera Ismail Khan always moves in its own rhythm. The main bazaar stays busy from morning till night and people from different backgrounds pass through it every day. In the middle of this bazar stands the Choggala, a kind of small fortress where police…
November 27, 2025
Horror Stories Ben Macnair

Life Like

The hushed reverence of the Nude Gallery had always been Sarah’s sanctuary. At thirty-two, she often found the modern world a cacophony of shallow noise, but here, amidst the silent, sculpted figures, a profound quietude settled upon her soul. She wasn't an…
November 27, 2025
General Stories Hossam Belal

My Time For Courage

I was a child in Gaza, but I wasn’t like the other children—fear set me apart. Yes, I admit it: I was afraid. And I don’t see any shame in that. I was still just a child, and children have the right to feel fear—especially when they grow up in a place like…
November 27, 2025
Flash Fiction Syed Hassan Askari

The Mistake That Stole Seventeen Years

Sara was the politest girl in her family. She was quiet, shy, and gentle. She would wake up early in the morning to perform Fajr prayers. She would make tea for her parents and then walk to her college—two long kilometers—with her books pressed tightly to her…
November 27, 2025
Horror Stories Ben Macnair

Gone Fishing

The silence of Oakhaven Lake was usually a salve for Barry, a thirty-year-old city slicker who considered himself an outdoorsman by virtue of occasional weekend trips and a subscription to an adventure magazine. But today, the quiet was merely an…
November 27, 2025
General Stories Steven Robnett

Walks Far Woman

I am a geriatric social worker at Cherryvale Memory Care Center. While normally I do not lead outings for patients at the center, I did, on one occasion, as a special favor. The outing, I was assured, would be for a couple of hours and with only one patient.…
November 27, 2025
General Stories Matias Travieso-Diaz

Shattered Glass

When a man carries an instrument of violence, he'll always find the justification to use it. If we really want to escape this war, we have to stop bringing it with us. Brian K. Vaughan, Saga, Volume 1 The last two generations have grown amidst frequent…
November 27, 2025
Horror Stories Syed Zeeshan Raza Zaidi

Where The Road Remembers

The night I first saw her, Karachi had folded in on itself. The city—usually a sprawling, restless mass of neon, horns, and heat—felt strangely hollow, as if someone had cupped it in both hands and gently dimmed the edges. I had been driving for Uber for six…
November 27, 2025
Fantasy Stories Sani Ibrahim

The Clockwork Sparrow

In a city of clanking pistons and hissing steam, where the sky was a permanent tapestry of grey smoke, Elara’s workshop was a sanctuary of intricate wonder. She was a tinkerer, an artist of gears and springs, and her greatest creation was a sparrow. Not a…
November 27, 2025
Flash Fiction Frank Talaber

303 Jen

Time’s recollections flitter like butterflies alighting from fields of sun-cast flowers as I stop before an apartment building staring as snapshots of a life like Kodak moments blur by, one after another. I’ve been here before. Two children and … good God! ……
November 27, 2025
Horror Stories Ben Macnair

A Boat Upon The Shore

The sea, they say, offers solace. A vast, indifferent expanse that swallows grief as readily as it does the sun. After Clara, its ceaseless roar became my only companion, the rhythm of its waves a balm to the ragged edges of my soul. I’d retreated to this…
November 27, 2025
Fantasy Stories Carolyn Brotherson

The Changing

Transforming into an animal was more painful than one could ever imagine. Perhaps that prospect is why Mother prohibited Éana from her Changing, a ceremony that all prospective druids in the Court of Flowers went through after their first year of training.…

They lived together in a rustic looking A-Frame house down the road off the lake. There were three of them, Nancy, Cathy and Mike, all in their early sixties. They were very pleasant, even though townsfolk could tell they were from New York City; all three pretty much kept to themselves and seemed very happy and content with each other living the semi-rural lifestyle here in New England.

Nancy was a trim and fit blonde who looked dynamite in stylish but simple standard corduroy pants and sweater combinations under her tailored navy jacket. The cold, biting New England wind made her complexion even lovelier, complementing her nearly perfect smile.

Nancy loved to shop in the local markets; one could tell she was quite the gourmet cook. She could also be seen painting landscapes during our beautifully colorful autumn seasons. In addition, Nancy sang American Standards at our local coffee house. Her lovely voice blending her ageless sexuality and those timeless lyrical standards of the greatest generation made for quite enjoyable entertainment.

Cathy had an infectious laugh and a great smile. She was petite and slender, with ear length dark hair that was always set in a early 1960’s style out of Mad Men. Cathy looked like her denim jeans were painted on her perfect legs, her tops nicely fit and without a bra her tiny breasts still kept their upward perk.

Cathy also loved to cook and shop along with Nancy.  She loved to clean. The A Frame was always tidy and spotless. Nancy and Cathy were best friends for over forty years. Their friendship was eternal and transcended the physicality of their love. The two drew Mike into their physically and emotionally satisfying world back in New York City.

Cathy was the long distance runner of the three, loving those seemingly endless beautiful trails through tree packed forests along steep mountain terrain. Alternating between the complete silence of nature and classic rock music on her i phone during these runs, Cathy lived for the runner’s high.

Cathy loved to laugh and though not college educated like  Mike and Nancy, she was as sharp as they come. But at times, for affect, Cathy liked to scheme a good practical joke on her two lovers.

Mike was a six foot, blue eyed, retired New York City Police Officer with unkept salt and pepper hair. One could tell he kind of missed the hustle and bustle of being a cop in New York City, but was intrinsically drawn to our peaceful parcel of earth. He always had a smile and a wave for everyone in town.

Mike was not your average police officer. He had a prior career in education but went on to law enforcement instead of getting a Phd. in order to receive tenure in academia. But being a cop was what he was really meant to be. Mike’s sense of humor drove their friendship. He was funny and a true original.

He met Nancy when she ran a deli down on Broadway right off Houston Street in Greenwich Village. They became instant lovers and fast friends.  Nancy introduced Mike to her best friend Cathy and the three became an item. It took a while for Nancy and Cathy to find out what really made Mike tick, but they eventually did, and loved him even more.

Mike dabbled in writing and photography and loved to take long walks in the woods. He truly loves Nancy and Cathy and has finally obtained the contentment and peace that had evaded him since he returned from Viet Nam in 1969. He believes Nancy and Cathy’s place in his life is the answer to years of unidentifiable but gnawing uncertainty.

To Mike, Nancy and Cathy gave him creativity, independence, spontaneity, and most importantly, true love. Hence, he is able to unquestionably appreciate and enjoy existence.

Nancy and Cathy love taking care of Mike, and Mike loves being taken care of by Nancy and Cathy. In his own way, he fulfills and completes the ladies sense of being uniquely connected to the universe.

Mike calls their trio:  The Three H’s: Hazy Hot, and Humid.

They are three of the most contented people I have ever met.

 

Epilogue

 

Why Hazy, Hot and Humid?  Mike answered that with one of his “numerous humorous” observations:

Cathy is Hazy, with her feigned misunderstanding of events and Gracie Allen logic.

Nancy is Hot, for her unadulterated sexuality.

And......

Mike is Humid, for his unkept hair, having bad hair days even in the cold of New England.

 

End

 

Frankie Rembly  is new to writing and enjoys the renaissance of creativity in writing for television's new golden age.

0
0
0
s2sdefault

Donate a little?

Use PayPal to support our efforts:

Amount

Genre Poll

Your Favorite Genre?

Sign Up for info from Short-Story.Me!

Stories Tips And Advice