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Best Stories on the Web
We publish original Short Stories written by accomplished authors from around the globe. You can read them here and also sign up to have them emailed to you. See Subscribe button on left.

To enable further promotion of reading and writing, all stories will now appear on our sister site, www.short-stories.me.

 
All genres, all writers, all here.

Here, on Short-Story.me we publish only the highest quality stories from great writers around the world. To have work published on Short-Story.me 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.

 

Surgical Strategies

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Cedric Goram had attended many meetings in his time.  Not long ago he had attended one wearing an orange jump suit and handcuffs. Today, as head of Human Resources at Huber Moneda Hospital, he was attending the monthly all-staff meeting wearing a designer sport coat and silver cufflinks.  The hospital’s Chief Financial Officer, Brian Asch, stood at the podium.  Brian wore a fine light-weight pinstripe suit and a toupee.  He was talking about profitability.

Cedric himself had always been a people person, not a numbers geek. His mind wandered.

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Valhalla Girl

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Having played the last song of the night, Christian glanced up from his guitar case, scanning the club patrons’ sweaty faces. His attention focused on a stunning blonde haired woman, who stood apart from the crowd. Or rather the crowd is standing apart from her and with good reason, Christian thought. He took mental stock of the woman. Her waist length hair shimmered beneath the club’s lighting effects, but not as brightly as her metal bustier and chain mail skirt, not to mention the spear. Christian turned and nudged the bass player, Vic.

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Backups

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Once upon a time, Naomi noticed someone posting as her on the Internet. Ordinarily identity theft would be a problem; however, identity theft proved a disaster in Naomi’s case. Her catering supply business ran into danger. While the Internet offered new business pipelines, her catering supply business pipelined into the area catering—parties, dining, receptions for bored brokers and bankers. When High Frequency Trading HFT had been moved from Wall Street and installed in the Middle West United States, Naomi’s catering business moved along with High Frequency Trading. High Frequency Trading profit jumped. Naomi’s business profit jumped. Unfortunately, impersonation and hacking jumped with it.

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Dear Harold

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Dear Harold,

It was real good to see you the other night. Not many guys would have bought a girl pretzels on a first date. To me it was a real sign of you. Like a statement, I guess you would say.

Anyway, I think you should not be too embarrassed because your fly stuck open at the dance. I don't think people noticed. They looked at you and laughed because of that funny joke you told I am sure. I felt bad you had to explain it three times to those dummies at our table. But some folks just are not too swift you know.

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Heavy Word

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"Hey, Son."

I love it when she calls me that. It's so simply perfect in every way, and I don't think she knows it. Of course, it's a statement of the obvious, but I don't believe that she means to remind me of the biological order of events that needed to occur in order for me to be standing here, today. In order for the implications in that address to hold fast to truth.

No. I'm sure that when she says it, and each time she says it, she means to remind me of the weight it holds for her. And the exponential weight it's gained with each ounce, with each pound, with each inch, with each foot, with each day, and with each year. From the moment she first held me in Balboa Naval Hospital not 25 minutes drive from here, to this moment now; as I hold her in return.

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Avoiding Accidents

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“I was just out for a while,” Jason said into the phone.

“You were out way too long!  I knew I couldn't trust you,”  replied Kelly over the phone.

“It won't happen again, I promise.”

“You've already promised.  Your promises are worthless.  I've had it!  If this ever happens again, and I mean EVER, then we'll be done!  For Good!”

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Death of Sanity

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Do people who've gone insane recognize the changes they've gone through that got them where they are? What I mean to say is do they know they are going crazy? Are they helpless to the events happening to their minds? Or are they oblivious to the events, making their life an ever morphing horror movie? Both sound very intriguing, I don't think I could choose one way or another. I think the journey alone is an adventure worth experiencing. Which brings me to the paradoxical question am I sane? Conventionally no, but I understand this. This is why I will choose and not allow time or fate to make a choice for me.

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Quench

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Every inch of me trembles.

I'd trade every breath I have left for the courage to chomp down and let his sweet blood pool in the back of my throat.

The heat and rolling gurgle would be enough satisfaction to offset the coughing – I'd need to dislodge the liquid out of my windpipe eventually.

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