Free Short Stories to Read Online
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
Prompt: “Write about the number 13”Link to Prompt SourceWatch me write this LIVE! How I know the term, “A Baker’s Dozen” was coined by a MOM! I wondered quietly where the phrase “a baker’s dozen” originated. Like, was the extra donut for the baker? Did the baker have twelve co-bakers, or baker minions, or whatever a baker’s helper might be called? Or maybe it’s like this – you have this
“After hundreds of years, the egg finally hatched.” Link to Prompt SourceDue to technical difficulties, this sprint was not recorded/broadcasted. PROMPT: “After hundreds of years, the egg finally hatched.” Junior shifted in his seat. This was the moment he’d been waiting for – he was three books in to the “Jurassic Ages” series and the egg that had been hauled around with the tribe of Triceretops (??!?!?!!) for the past
