Shortfiction Stories

A collection of short stories varying from different themes. Joy to sadness. Grief to love. Twice a week- a new story. Estimate: Monday and Thursday (Under 200 words)

Every morning, Papanti wakes to smoke, brew coffee, and feed a hungry dragon-calf. Between fog, dreams, and absurd conversations, the line between reality and story grows dangerously thin. ☕ A daily, poetic slice-of-life fantasy - whimsical, warm, and quietly strange. -Papanti can't stand still and involves the dragon-calf, his father Vhagar and Mjoll in a wild goose chase."-

Whether working in the vineyard or dancing on the pole...it's all about the process.

Adrián built North Vale from nothing - early mornings, impossible standards, every detail controlled before anyone else arrived. He's good at it. Maybe too good. A brief look into the story of a man who learned to manage everything except what it cost him.

Whether working in the vineyard or dancing on the pole...it's all about the process.

I don't know what to put in description. This is a gxg story, I'm an amateur writer so please bare with it. This is a short story. Please vote it's highly appreciated.

It's just a warm Christmas story. It will be over by the time you finish your cup of hot chocolate.

This short piece of fiction beautifully illustrates the enchanting connection between two hearts entwined in a tender embrace. It delves into the profound impact of physical affection, revealing how each touch and hug releases a dopamine rush, soothing their bodies and calming their minds. The narrative captures a moment filled with emotion, as a man holds her close, expressing his deep love and allowing those powerful feelings to wash over him, enveloping him in warmth and tranquility. As he begins to suck her neck in a tender, delightful manner, the world around them fades, leaving only the soft intimacy of their shared moment, a silent promise of affection that binds them even closer together.

A short story I made a while ago. Please don't read this until you are 13+ I know some of you won't listen though. °•°•°•° Warning: Mature content

A short story about nature, mutation and longing.

When winter comes, it brings with it pristine white blankets of snow, that cover everything. Blankets that smothered the shrill, helpless cries of Naina as terrible things happened to her, night after night, beside the fireplace in her own house. Her story isn't one of courage. It isn't one of resilience. It is one of broken things- a broken heart, a broken spirit and a broken hymen. It is a story of significant insignificance. Enough insignificance to vie with that of a snowflake on a stormy winter night. Can Naina survive the ordeal she undergoes? Can she make it out of this alive? Will she be able to fix what's broken? Read on to find out. #YourStoryIndia #FreeYourBody

A short love story about the daughter of a Sareth Ackbean lord in Zynara and the burglar that tries to rob him.

The story of two people affected by covid-19

A summer farewell from an imaginary friend.

The red became blue. "Walk," said the green being. All of them walked. There wasn't much mystery then. The next time, the red became blue.

People Watching... One of America's most favorite past times. You may not realize it, but you've done this before. You may be doing this right now as you're reading this. You may notice that while you're reading, there is a person, not that far away from where you are. And your mind wanders off, thinking about what their story is. That is because you are a reader. So sit back, relax, and read the stories that we come up with together. If you sighted a person, and you want it in the book, Private Message me and it will be in a future chapter. I will not turn anyone away. Please tell me if offend you in any way. If you feel offended by my story or certain chapter and, I will take them down. Completed 9/26/16

It began with a toothpick. Funnies Caretto picked his teeth after leaving a restaurant on East 54th and chucked the toothpick into the street. Rain carried it down the gutter and into the sewers, and the swirls and eddies of New York waters made the toothpick jam into a crack on the side of the canal. About a third of the toothpick was stuck tight in the minute crevice; that bit of wood wasn't going anywhere.

The day she died she smelled flowers on her way out of her building.

Rotten Pumpkins, missing people, and a place unknown. Tick Tock. It's time to go. Trick or Treat! @ThePiercedWriter used to be my old username FYI. (#12 in shortfiction)

Mac Benson wants to know the truth about his parents, why do they hate each other, and after his best friend goes missing, he runs away to find out why