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Best Stories on the Web
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 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.

 
 

Small Town Horror

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Metro Meats was a slaughterhouse here in town that employed a lot of young people during the seventies. My aunty used to work there, but a number of young men, some still alive, but older now, did their best to ruin her time at the place.

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The Neighbour

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It is subtle, but then my nose hairs start to burn as the smell travels down my throat. I sit up, jump out of bed, quickly turn off the fan, and expect the little bastard to pass by my house and travel down the street, but unfortunately I hear his squeaky, annoying voice.

“It is me, the famous neighborhood skunk in search of food!” he shouts.

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I Thought I Knew Her

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I watched Karen walk away, the hem of her skirt flipping from side to side, just like the first time I'd encountered her on our way to the dining hall. She was a freshman then, I a junior. I commented on her dress, an enticingly short swirl of pastel colors. The conversation continued at dinner after we met up with her roommate. Now, exactly two years later, in the noonday sun, at the bench where we'd spent hours talking that first night, in front of a choir of my fraternity brothers--and other students crossing the university's quad--I got down on one knee and stuttered out a proposal. She said no.

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It's Your Turn

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I am writing this because I have no choice. I'd like to say it is a warning to others, but I have far more selfish reasons. Even if I did warn you, I doubt you would heed it, as I did not heed the warning left for me. I must not waste time, as time is wasting me, in a way that defies the medical science I once believed I knew. My joints ache as I write, and soon I know I will be unable to continue. Yet this must be told and so I write on.

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Cat Tale

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Adoption counselor Jan Mulford studied the form before her.  A man named Mark Hazlett was applying to be a pet parent to the loving and playful calico named Miss Kitty.  Although she loved all of the pets in the Humane Society, Jan did occasionally find favorites, and Miss Kitty was one of them.  Jan had secretly been considering adopting Miss Kitty herself, even though she already had a cat.  Jan wondered why this Dr. Hazlett wanted a cat.  He was 35 years old, around her own age, and he had never owned a cat before, only dogs.

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The Dive

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It was a beautiful brisk Manhattan autumn evening in 1984. Jimmy and Frankie were getting back on patrol from their meal. They had enjoyed a late supper at a new French restaurant, the CAFE DU PARC. Their old pal Nicky now owned and managed this elegant cafe on East 19th Street. Last week he had invited them to tonight’s private opening. Nicky was welcoming his hand-picked list of guests.

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Out on a Ledge

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Justin, Jake, and Elan headed northeast towards the mountains where they hoped to find the great inland sea.   The northern end of the sea fed a river that descended to the Valley of the Black Dog, their home. As they climbed out of the dense forest and into the foothills, the vegetation changed.  There were fewer trees and more grasses and shrubs.  The giant red woods gave way to smaller pines and scrub oaks.  Streams were narrower and swifter.  On and on, the boys walked, up one hill and down another, all the while, gaining elevation.

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Crazy Lady Detective Agency

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When my dog went missing, I focused on Lamont James.  Lamont’s my sometime friend — quote unquote — who brought dog-frickin-biscuits every time he visited to drink my beer.  And I think he had a key to my crib cause my one-time girlfriend Monica said she lost the one I gave her last year and Lamont has been seen walking with her on Broadway.

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