Short-Story.Me!

  • Increase font size
  • Default font size
  • Decrease font size
Best Stories on the Web

Mountain of Silver Dust

E-mail Print

Each grain of azurcose was a truncated icosahedron.  She remembered this from school as thousands of them avalanched into her crystal mug of dark brown coffee, “like a million tiny footballs,” she whispered.  Only these had flat faces, whereas the tiles on a football were convex, giving it its smooth rounded shape.  “Thirty-two faces…  Twelve pentagons, twenty hexagons, sixty angles, ninety lines.  Remember that the next time you slurp your darn SyraNova drinks,” she mimicked her Chem teacher’s gravelly voice.

Read more...
 

She Really Hates Kids

E-mail Print

She yelled so awfully loud... like she was right in my face, you know?

My friend Ryan and I were about twelve and we had been to see Batman at the cinema. Jack Nicholson was awesome as the Joker and as we walked home we kept trying to laugh like that, swapping lines from the movie.

Read more...
 

Frank and Elvis

E-mail Print

A cool night air descended. Now that he had left the valley, it smelled and felt good. It dried Mike’s sweat. He lit another cigarette, gave the 8-track a shove and set the cruise control for 70. The Calais moved like a torpedo.

Heading east into the desert, he had left L.A. far behind. The sky changed, the scent of the air changed and the feeling even changed.

Read more...
 

A Mother Gets Revenge

E-mail Print

Forty-year-old Dale Farr and his wife, thirty-five-year-old Susan, finished packing for their trip to Africa. “Are you ready, Susan?

“Yes. I’ll ring for Walter,” she said and rang for the butler, who came after a minute.

Dale put two rifles that were in leather cases into the trunk.

Read more...
 

Return of the Naked Werewolf

E-mail Print

Vlad sat up with a sigh, his white fingers folding over the edge of his coffin, and stared at Harold. “Do you know what time it is, Harold? The sun just went down. You know, at my age, our age, I don't jump the minute the day is gone.”

Harold shifted between edgy and embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah, I know, Vlad, but tonight is another full moon. And I get itchy, my skin does, because I don't spring that thick fur anymore. Who ever heard of a naked werewolf?”

Read more...
 

Seeking Redemption

E-mail Print

“Are you guys in?”  The blonde boy looked at his two friends, hoping to see a confirmation from them that they accepted his plan.  The two boys nodded back and got into the black Chevy Cruze for the short drive to Becky Summers’ house.  The coordinator of the plan was Corey Williams, the star quarterback of the Tyler High football team and Becky’s boyfriend.  It was Becky’s birthday and Corey’s plan was for a simple birthday wish to be passed on from the three boys.

Read more...
 

Flip Frost Loves New York

E-mail Print

His awakening thought: The roaches were probably still sleeping. They only come out at night.

He looked in the cracked dresser mirror and yawned. Gazing down at his 1960‘s analog clock radio (the only artifact from his childhood he still owned), it non digitally registered 5:45. He figured it must be afternoon.

After all, his foggy alcohol drenched brain is slowly recalling stumbling out of CBGB’s to the blinding morning sun. He also remembers breakfast at Leshko’s on Avenue A. Ordering pancakes with his new friend Johan from Germany and those chicks from that fetid excuse for a punk rock band, “The Sanitary Napkin.” A Typical New Jersey art school chick wanna be band.

Read more...
 

Half Souls

E-mail Print

They walked towards the house, as it began to rain. Behind them, the remains of their car burnt mildly, until the rain put out the fire. Cynthia looked at Sam and then at the house. They were stranded, but the house didn’t seem like an option she should take.

The house stood a few feet off the road. It stood tall, casting an imposing shadow on the trees that stood to its right.

Lightning struck and lit up the house for a second. Cynthia grabbed onto Sam’s hand. The vines that curled round the house scared her.

Read more...
 

Nesting Doll

E-mail Print

The cottage was made of stone and log, with a thatch roof, and never a day went by without it being warm. That was her father's doing and Truda loved her father, Martin, dearly. Her mother, Meredith, she tried to love, but that woman was distant, some might say, “ Cold. “ She was more often than not having hateful thoughts toward her.

Read more...
 

The Five Pilchards

E-mail Print

Fishing nets hung lose from the ceiling. Pictures of old ships covered the walls. Low wooden beams and large sturdy tables painted a picture of stout, little Cornish fisherman drinking to their long time at sea.

I rested my aching feet. The amber coloured beer, of a peculiar name, was sweet nectar to my parched mouth. A packet of cheese and onion crisps quelled the hunger pains from walking the coastal path for three hours.

Read more...
 


Page 10 of 75

Sign Up for Short-Story.me Info!




Featured Stories

Written by: Eric Scott Booth
Oh how I hate you... You who stands in everlasting judgement. You who peers into my soul and reveals every weakness, every... Read more..

Written by: Cameron Trenholm
Alice sprinted down the dimly lit hall of the long forgotten building. The walls were scratched to pieces and the hardwood... Read more..



Buy Featured Story Placement

RSS Feed