-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

May 19, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jo Carroll

The Curl and Vampire

She was a pretty thing to be sure, the little girl with the curl. Her cheeks were as red as blood and her skin as smooth as porcelain. And yet there was something odd about her clear blue eyes—something empty and soulless. She sat atop her throne of building…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Nicole Robb

New Frontier

Still groggy from her hibernation chamber, Stacey checked the readings once again on the ship's control panel.She had read them right. "Tom! Something's wrong." "What is it?" Tom emerged from the back where he had been checking on the twelve hundred sleeping…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Laura Ellison

Remedy

The smell of death hung heavy and pungent in the air. Sickness touched the skin and covered it in a dewy glow that in any other situation could have been attractive. Castellan held a scented handkerchief over her nose as she walked through the village to the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Dylan Thomas Nichol

Forged in Shadows

Screaming was all that could be heard through the bone chilling halls of the dungeon. This was what the supposedly great nation of Hace really was. An ugly abomination lay underneath the stunning Admor Keep, and Caelin made the long journey through it, his…
May 17, 2018
Mystery Stories Isabel Schwaak

Something Stronger

A thick grey stone wall separated the village of Telly Fenn from the wilderness. A narrow path led the way out of the village and melted into a crossroad, from which a crooked path strayed far into the dark forest. The inhabitants of Telly Fenn were content…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jade De-Terville

A Light Bulb Called Tink

“This is more than just a bloody mid life crisis,” Karen said clutching a tattered red book, until her knuckles started going white. She savagely threw the book onto the chequered dining cloth, and ran her hands through her untamed hair. “Oi, mind the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories April Winters

Area Twenty Four and a Half

I, Jim Roberts, got fired today. I didn’t realize Mr. Kerr, my boss, was standing behind me when I referred to him as Kerr-mitt. He failed to see the humor, and now I have no source of income. Looks like my journalistic aspirations are out the window. I…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Jeremy Szal

Crimson Snow

16th Day of Regon, Year 455 of the First Dawn I could feel the cold as we climbed higher, the chill reaching into my bones. The wind whispered across the grassland, flapping my black hair over my face. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories B.J.Neblett

Forever

“Segue the next couple of records with a jingle then go into a stop set. I’m gonna get some air.” Hy Lit flashed his agreeable smile, adjusted his trade mark tinted glasses and winked. “You’re a natural, kid.” Then he disappeared out the studio door. The…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories BJ Neblett

Pockets Full Of Wishes

“Don’t put your hands in the pockets!” Jimmy looked at his sister. It was just a winter coat, a used one. It was all his parents could afford. But it was his. He picked it out. Now he stood proudly before the store mirror admiring the blue denim coat with the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Laura Ellison

Consumed

Arlia knelt down on a silk cushion in the middle of the room. She took a deep breath and centred herself. Gramps always told her to do this, sometimes he jabbed her in the sides with his walking stick if he thought she rushed meditation. In front of her the…
May 17, 2018
Fantasy Stories Paul Magnan

Scorned

I grasped the rough edges of the tombstone and pulled it from the strands of thick, yellowed grass upon which it lay. I set it in an upright position. The words “Dear Love” were carved along the top of the stone. I had carved those words. For a few seconds…

 

 

Sonoda Gin gathers fruit at her local grocery store just off the east coast of Japan. She hums a soft tune to herself as she adds several plump peaches and a few crimson cherries to her basket. After paying the cashier, she leaves the store with a huge smile on her face. Her bag of fruit swings above cobble stoned streets as she makes her way through the city.

This is her first day off in weeks. Nothing is going to ruin it. Not even that huge blister that’s starting to swell on the back of her heel. Why? Because her fiancé, Kasamatsu, waits for her at their spot underneath the cherry tree. It was there just two years ago that she first spotted him. He was running late for a job interview and came dashing around the corner. His broad chest slammed into Sonoda and sent her strawberry smoothie flying out of her thin hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

Sonoda glanced down at her new white trainers, now covered in bits of strawberry gunk.

“It’s fine,” she shook her head and smiled at him.

He ran the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead, “Do you know where I could find this place?” he shows her an address scrawled in blue ink across the back page of a bus timetable.

Sonoda knew the location well, she passed the building on her way to work every morning. It was some kind of computer company, perhaps specialising in software development or something. So Sonoda, being the helpful person she was, offered him directions. The only problem was that she gave him directions to a nearby pet store instead. Whether it was a mistake or not is still a matter up for debate.

This misinformation led to an intriguing conversation twenty minutes later. Upon spotting the same girl who mislead him and caused him to miss his interview, Kasamatsu thought it appropriate to give her a taste of his mind. But when he lay his eyes on her for the second time, he caught something he must have missed before.

It wasn’t long before the two fell madly in love with each other. The following year, Kasamatsu knelt down on one knee and presented Sonoda with the biggest diamond ring she had ever seen.

She glances at the ring on her finger, remembering the moment with fondness in her heart.

Heat from the blazing sun beckons a pink glow to roast on the apples of her cheeks. A stream of direct sunlight blinds her. She shuts her eyes and lets the light dance on her lids, casting flares of red and gold that paint Kasamatsu’s face. His pinkish lips, although merging into the buttery hue of his chin, smiles back at her.

She hasn’t laid eyes on the real Kasamatsu in over four weeks. He has been in Italy with his family. Sonoda always wanted to go herself and Kasamatsu’s mother was even kind enough to invite her along. However, the invitation was declined. Sonoda’s father had fallen ill and she needed to stay home and take care of him. She spent the last few weeks tending to his every need. Some days were good, others weren’t.

Her aunt came to the house this morning to give Sonoda a day off from dressing and feeding her father. She couldn’t believe her luck. Kasamatsu had just returned from Europe this morning and she was dying to hear all about his trip. Today she could push thoughts of her ill father to the back of her mind and focus all of her attention on Kasamatsu.

Just for today.

The soles of her strappy sandals slap hard and fast against the pavement. The bag of fruit sways at her side as she half walks, half skips towards the cherry tree. It wasn’t far. Just a few more buildings to pass and then there it would be.

And there he would be.

Thoughts of Kasamatsu and their upcoming wedding floods Sonoda’s mind.

What kind of neckline should her wedding dress have? She was fond of the sweetheart neckline. But perhaps a higher neckline would be more suitable for her thin frame? And then there’s shoes to think about…

Busy with thoughts about wedding dresses, shoes, cakes and venues, Sonoda doesn’t notice the family of four running past her. Each of them with tears streaming down their faces. Nor does she catch the disarray drum of beating footsteps clambering up behind her.

It isn’t until a by-passer knocks into her right shoulder that she is brought back to reality. The runner tosses her arm upwards. Cherries and peaches are thrown into the air before landing scattered about the pavement. One of the peaches (a particularly juicy one) rolls off the edge of the curb and is crushed by a weighty man carrying his screeching son on his shoulders.

A stampede of frightened pedestrians run towards her. They scramble together like a herd of wild buffalo. One frightened woman clutches her new born against her chest. The child is wrapped in a white cotton blanket.

A loud series of thunderous clatters escapes from deep in the city. A flutter, not the good kind, arises in Sonoda’s stomach and her ribcage twists around her lungs like clutching chains.

The noise echoes and is soon accompanied by huge rolling waves of murky water. They crash into a block of flats at the end of the street. The building shatters like a house of playing cards. People scream. They fall into the waves and are swept away too fast for Sonoda’s eyes to keep up with them.

An instant shot of adrenaline courses through her veins. Forgotten muscles in her legs tighten and she runs. Her heart pulsates in her chest. She cannot scream like the others. Her throat refuses to loosen enough to let any sound pass through at all.

She keeps her sight straight ahead. She does not think of the waves nor the falling buildings around her. Instead, she thinks of Kasamatsu’s face. Holding his hand and finding comfort in his profound embrace.

That would be a sweet death, she thinks. I’d be lucky then.

Gritting her teeth, she pushes her legs to go faster. She skips past the other screaming runners and dodges their abandoned cars. She leaps over dropped handbags and broken toys. She begins to think that she will escape this. They both will. Kasamatsu and her. Both of them together.

The cherry tree is in full bloom but he isn’t here. He isn’t here and the waves are coming.

She brings her hands to her mouth and calls out for him, “Kasamatsu,” she cries. “Kasamatsu!”

Has he run off and left her?

“Kasamatsu!”

It’s too late.

The rolling waves sweep her away with fragments of pink cherry blossoms.

She dies fast, cold and alone.

5 years later

 

A taxi man picks up his next passenger outside a local café. The passenger is a young man in his early twenties called Henry. He wears grey skinny jeans and a red checked shirt. He takes a seat next to the driver and asks to be left off at the Ishinomaki station. The driver nods and starts the engine.

A photograph of a pretty Japanese woman next to the steering wheel grabs the young man’s attention. She smiles in the photo with her dark hair hanging in loose curls about her shoulders.

“Is that your daughter?” Henry asks, perhaps hoping to get in good with her father while he can.

The driver shakes his head, “My fiancé.”

The young man widens his eyes at this revelation. She looks a lot younger than him.

“You’re a lucky man,” he replies, “She’s very beautiful.”

“She’s dead.”

Henry apologies and offers his deepest sympathies.

The driver seems unshaken by it. “It’s okay.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened to her?”

“The 2011 tsunami claimed her life,” he replies.

Henry shakes his head, “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

The driver doesn’t respond. He keeps his eyes on the road and his mind on the job at hand.

“I’m Henry, I’m here travelling with my girlfriend,” he says in a meek attempt to start a conversation with one of the locals. “I’m meeting her at the station.”

The driver nods. “Kasamatsu,” he says, accepting Henry’s handshake across the gear stick.

After a few minutes of silence, Henry decides to break the tension.

“Where you and your finance engaged for long?”

“Just a year,” Kasamatsu replies.

Henry nods. He’s tempted to ask more but he bites his tongue and says nothing.

Kasamatsu seems to pick up on his interest though and answers Henry’s unspoken questions before he has a chance to ask them.

“On the day she died we had arranged to meet at the spot where I proposed. But I was running late,” Kasamatsu explains, his voice is steady at first but he loses touch of it before he can finish his sentence. Henry listens intently. “I tried to get to her,” he says. “But I was too late.”

“I’m sure she knew you would have been there if you could.”

Kasamatsu nods, appreciative of the boys attempt to comfort him. They exchange small chat for the remainder of the journey. Kasamatsu recommends a few restaurants and places to visit during Henry’s visit while he jots them down on his notepad. He scribbles little stars with a ball point pen next to the ones he thinks his girlfriend will like best.

When they reach the station, Henry offers his condolences once again before stepping out of the taxi.

“Thanks for the lift,” he says. “Keep the change.”

Kasamatsu thanks him and is about to reverse the car but notices Henry lingers by the curb.

He rolls down the window. “Don’t keep her waiting,” he smiles.

“I won’t,” Henry winks back, before running up to a blonde girl holding a pink and white polka dot suitcase. He gives her a kiss on the cheek and turns to wave goodbye to Kasamatsu.

He returns the boys gesture and starts up the engine.

Just when he is about to drive off, someone thumps on the roof of the taxi. The back door of the car opens and a woman dressed in a blue coat gets inside. She shuffles herself over to the middle seat.

Kasamatsu glances at the mirror when he speaks, “Where to?”

“Minamiyama District.”

Upon hearing the mention of the dishevelled Minamiyama, Kasamatsu looks at the woman in the mirror. She has her hood up, casting dark shadows across her face. He can tell that she is young, perhaps in her late twenties.

“The area is empty and quiet. Do you still want to go?”

Silence.

When the woman finally replies, her voice trembles.

“Have I died?” she asks.

Kasamatsu turns his head to answer her, but the passenger seat is empty.

“Sonoda?”

End

Bio: Sabrinthia is a copywriter based in Northern Ireland. She specialises in writing blog posts and SEO articles for businesses online. She is also the founder of The Content Assassin (www.thecontentassassin.com) and is forever trying to write her first novel.

 

Thanks,

Sabrinthia

 

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!