Free Short Stories to Read Online
A Short Story by J. R. Nichols “How is the apple?” Bonita asked, stroking the cat in her lap and acting just as casual as a corner. “Amazing,” Snow said. She had made short work of the thing, eating around the center with a rapidity that shocked Bonita. It should shock her, she knew. After all, how could good manners be expected from a girl living out here with the
Slow, No Wakeby, J. R. Nichols The girls and I were enjoying a peaceful day at the beach when he showed up. Ever the hero, he launched his daughters into the water from sunburned shoulders, and allowed them to bury him in the sand. Meanwhile, I struggled to turn sandwiches for three into lunch for four. He ran over, kicking sand onto my blanket, and grabbed a sandwich.“No mustard? I can’t
Goat Drabbleby, J. R. Nichols “Can’t I have him?” she pleads, “I’ll name him Prince Charming, and make him a crown out of paper mache.”“Sofia, he’d just eat it”, I say, holding my nose. “Meh!” The goat blurts, in a voice so loud, I start. The kid has a booming, strangulated voice. Sofia and I laugh, and the goat hollers again. Tears stream down my face and I realize this
I remember the last time I felt a curious man’s eyes fall on me and linger. When I was younger, I would have called it “checking me out”. I am not sure what sure what kids today would call it. It was a glorious, sunny afternoon in Michigan’s upper peninsula, and I was driving a convertible. The top was down, of course—I’d always thought it should be a punishable offence for
