-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

January 27, 2023
Flash Fiction Marina Krasavtseva

Je t’aime… Moi non plus

Her first tear was a pleasure. Now, her eyes red and puffy, he felt somewhat disgusted but still satisfied with what he had done. Her sobbing was pleasing, but when she would open her mouth…He just wanted to punch her, stifle her or whatever it would take to…
January 27, 2023
Crime Stories Peter Greenhall

The Bank Robbery

Dev, a second generation Indian male, arrived early to work. He was the branch manager and responsible for the transferring of cash to a security van that arrived every Wednesday. Every week Dev arrived for work, alone, to meet the private company. On getting…
January 27, 2023
General Stories Emanuel Diaz

Oh Rats !

Francoch Ratta, a 27-year-old New Yorker of Irish-Italian descent, woke up one morning to find he had a peculiar sensation. It was as if someone, or something, was watching him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was a feeling that wouldn't go…
January 27, 2023
Poetry Peter Greenhall

Broken Hearted

Didn't take a knife, A gun, Or Strangulation, From anyone. No weapons of mass destruction, Powerfully, No cloak and dagger stuff, Sneakily. What you did, When you left me, What you did, Utterly destroyed me. Don't love me anymore, What am I to do? Didn't see…
January 24, 2023
Flash Fiction Greg Crow

The god Of Time And Space

There was a young man named Greg. He was an ordinary man, living an ordinary life, but he had a secret that he kept hidden from the world. He had the power to control time and space. Greg had discovered his power when he was just a teenager. He had been…
January 24, 2023
Poetry Peter Greenhall

My First Therapist

Imploding, Exploding, Fighting, And Hurting. Some of things I want to do, Cause much pain, To myself, And to others too. In my early 20's, Life's meant to be free, In my early 20's, Felt trapped within me. Raging inside, Volcanic activity, Some part of me…
January 24, 2023
Mystery Stories Emanuel Diaz

Let Me Protect You

It was a normal day for Arabella Barlow. She was working in her garden growing some of her vegetables to sell in her stall inside the Borough Market in London. She was at peace and content by doing this while she waited for her beloved husband Cenric Barlow.…
January 18, 2023
Flash Fiction Reen

Cold Chaos

An expected delay, the blue line will arrive in 8 minutes now. A smell of burning fire fills the startled air from the act of defrosting the CTA rail. While I take deep breaths, tiny droplets of liquid water and ice are seen in the air as a cloud. On this…
January 16, 2023
Poetry Paweł Markiewicz

The New Celtic Ode To The Dreamed Mother Nature

ABABACACA You are an enjoyable juniper! You are a pleasurable bush! You are an agreeable poplar! You are a delightful spruce! You are a gratifying cedar! You are an amusing birch! You are a diverting corn! You are a bonny pine! You are a lovely palm! Your…
January 16, 2023
Fantasy Stories Rafique Shabbir

The Return To Malneant

Almeric had not slept ever since the death of his wife whose murder was committed by his hands. He could not imagine what madness had impelled him to spill the blood of someone so pure and innocent. Nevertheless, the guilt manifested itself in his dreams as…
January 16, 2023
Poetry Peter Greenhall

Undercover Copper

I used to wear a uniform, Wore it brand new, Proud to be wearing that uniform, Happily arresting the scum amongst you. Football violence, Scuffles and domestics, Car crashes and possession, Total Mayhem. Undercover work, Is calling me, A bit cloak and dagger,…
January 16, 2023
Flash Fiction Emanuel Diaz

The Starry-Eyed One Maddening Sight

As Gustav Von Valentijn sat in front of The Starry Night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. He had spent a small fortune to acquire the painting from the Museum of Modern Art in New York, and now it was the centerpiece of his sanctuary -…

Marty woke up early today.  Sleeping was a bit harder ever since Daddy went away.  Marty slowly petted his cat Ryder.  The cat purred and brushed his face lovingly and aggressively against Marty's hand.  Today was a school day.  Marty couldn't stay in bed all day petting his cat.  He lay a while continuing the petting and then stood up and searched for some clothes.  Mommy used to put his clothes out for him, but she stopped doing that a while ago.  Marty figured that she must think he's big enough to get his own clothes out.

In the kitchen, Marty's Mom paced back and forth, attempting to make breakfast but not staying focused on the task at hand.  Marty strolled in.  He watched his Mom open cabinets and close them, open the fridge and close it, get out a plate just to put it back.

“Mommy, can I have some cereal this morning?” asked Marty.

Marty's Mom stared off in his direction without uttering a word.

“Mommy, I really want some cereal.”

Marty's Mom opened a cabinet up and took out a bowl.  Then, like a robot, she walked to another cabinet and grabbed a box a cereal.  She poured some of the cereal into the bowl, then abruptly stopped.  With an angry face she placed the bowl on a counter by the sink and then violently threw the box across the room, scattering the contents all over the floor.  She then stormed out of the room holding her head with her hands.

Marty shouted at his Mom, “Mommy, are you mad at me?  I can't reach the cereal there.”

Marty waited for the bus outside his house.  The bus came and went, but did not stop.  This scared Marty, he knew he would have to walk to school alone.  He always remembered to walk straight to school and not to talk to strangers.  About a block from his house, he passed a man sitting on a bench.

“Hi, Marty.  How are you this morning?” asked the man.  The man was dressed similar to the gym teacher at school.  Marty did not reply.  He kept his eyes straight ahead not making eye contact.  He walked passed the man without saying a word.  He would not talk to this stranger.

At school he sat at his desk and day dreamed as usual.  When the teacher asked a question that he knew the answer to he raised his hand enthusiastically.  He kept his hand up and pleaded to be picked, “pick me pick me,” he said.  The teacher overlooked him and waited until another student raised her hand.

A worksheet was being handed out by another student.  He meticulously handed a sheet to each desk, one by one.  When he got to Marty's desk, he paused a minute and stared at the chair with a horrified look in his eyes.  Marty felt like this student was looking right through him.  The student moved on to the next desk without leaving a sheet on Marty's desk.  Marty was very upset and confused by this students actions.

Later in the day, Marty stood by the windows looking out and daydreaming.  A classmate named Cindy walked up to Marty as he looked out the windows.

“What ya doing?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“What ya thinking about?”

“I'm a pirate on the beach, digging up buried treasure.  Why are the other kids acting weird?”

“They just afraid.  They been afraid since you went away.”

“But I'm right here.”
“I know.  I know.”  Cindy put her arm around Marty to comfort him.

At recess, Marty played as well as he could with the other kids.  He could sense that they were not allowing him to participate in their games.  After a while he just sat on the sidewalk and waited for recess to be over.  Before they went in the teacher took a head count of all her students.  Marty noticed she did not count him.  Marty joined the other students as they walked inside, but he continued to wonder why the teacher did not count him with her headcount.

After school, Marty walked home, alone again.  Again Marty saw the man on the bench dressed like the gym teacher.

“Hello Marty, nice day at school?” asked the man.

Marty did not make eye contact.  He passed the strange man in silence.  Don't talk to strangers, he thought.  Mustn't talk to strangers.

The strange man observed Marty walking away from him.  A tear formed in his eye.  Patience, he thought.  Be patient, he will come around eventually.

Marty went into his house and called for his Mom.  There was no answer.  Marty's Mom was still at work, so he decided to entertain himself by getting out his favorite toy.  He pulled out of a closet his favorite fire truck along with a box that he always pretended was a burning building.  He also pulled out several action figures and proceeded to act out numerous scenarios involving residential fires.

Marty's Mom came home.  She entered the house in a very mechanical fashion.  As soon as she noticed the toys spread out on the floor, she froze.  Her face was very pale and her eyes bulged.  After a minute she abruptly walked across the room and exited to a den.  She had to summon all her strength to keep from trembling and crying.  She walked to a photograph of her late husband.  Brushing it with her hand she mentioned what a long year this has been.  Then she grabbed a photograph of Marty.  Just four weeks earlier Marty was a healthy boy, then he got sick.  Holding the photo in her arms and against her chest as if hugging it she fell to the floor sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh Marty, why did you have to go and die,” she sobbed.

“Mommy, I'm right here Mommy,” Marty screamed at his mother.  “I'm right here.  I'M RIGHT HERE.  I'M RIGHT HERE!”

End

 

Kenneth L Gibbons is a factory worker from upstate New York.  He holds a degree in IT.  He is a passionate musician and song writer.  He is also the author of The Ghost Hunter, available through http://www.kennystales.com.

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