bed to sleep ” (good morning, I thought you are going to take me out today ) Benita sit up staring at her. When am awake OK ” Alex close her eyes snoring ” Benita stood up and try to change ” she opened her purse and noticed is empty? What! No. Alex, Alex ” what! Please leave me alone. She fired in anger. Do you stole my money ” Benita ask checking her bag Alex sit up looking upset ‘don’t you ever accuse me ofPaul: hey. It would help if you came right away ” it very urgent. Chris: damn! Have you forgotten I took a live? Paul: guy, someone just opened your mailbox. The security code has been stolen. Chris: what! Am coming right away ” he hung up, rushing to the car holding Benita along.” Am so sorry, we left to Nigeria right away. What happened ” Benita look worried. I would explain later OK “he stops at the house packing their bags hurriedly. Episode 7 Chris, thank goodness you here. Paul dropped the file on the table and noticed Benita walk in holding her bag.” Benita, you here. Paul spoke, staring at her,” yes. We came right away from the airport, ” Chris spoke instead. “ Margret takes care of my wife ” I just talk to Paul. Come, Mrs ray ” Margret held her hand smiling. (Paul pov) I am so sorry. I interrupted your honeymoon, “it excellent. Show me the mail please ” Chris looks serious, staring at the system in front of him. How am I going to change the password ” Chris focused on the system? It is not going to be easy “let’s just get a new mail, Chris. No. I have lots of essential documents save on my mail ” have you forgotten. Chris stood up, looking worried.” Wait. Let’s try my password,” Paul dragged the system close. Damn! It is not working ” wait. Try “321” Yes! Finally. It opens Chris ( Paul Change the password immediately please) Chris stood up adjusting his shirt.” Help yourself. Chris. Chris bent down to change the password and turned to leave, “We talk later. I have lots of things to do ” Chris embraces him and walk out of the office. He noticed Benita laughing loudly and help her up, smiling, ” Margret. Make sure you get me the design I ask for. OK, sir,” she replied, smiling. Let’s go, Benita ” Chris dragged her close.’ bye, Margret. (Benita wave in excitement) By Benita, ” Margret wave till she was out of sight,” she looks innocent and kind, ” Margret spoke and turned to leave the table. (Later in the evening ) Benita watches the workers rush to get her bags and felt the hand at her shoulder. I hope you lovely had a nice trip, sir, “Mrs. Jane ask, smiling. Yes. Thank you, ” Chris replied and went upstairs, holding Benita’s hand, ” Benita sat down, staring at him.” He picks up his system, working essential details. Chris. Can we talk, ” Benita asks, coming close? Of course, ” Chris close his system smiling. Why did you choose me? Chris couldn’t speak lost in thought,” maybe because you the perfect woman that matches my taste. He massaged her hair “go shower. You should relax, OK,” he peeked her, leading the way out. (Morning) Benita woke up and noticed the text beside her ” morning dear. I don’t want to wake you theft. No. I was only asking ” gosh! Someone came close to my bag ” welcome to my hood girl, and your money is gone. Oh! No. She sat down looking sobber” and left the room running out ” Alex hiss, and slept back. (Ray pov) Ray left the meeting hall ignoring other appointments ” he settles inside the car to drive, receiving call” mum, common. Am trying my best ” I don’t know what to do. Mum: son, go on a blind date ” it works. Don’t just focus on work, please. Ray: mum, let’s talk when am home ” he stops talking when he cut a glance at Benita looking messy. He horned loudly and noticed she didn’t stop lost in thought ” he drove closer to her and came down staring at her ” she fell down on his arms he carried her to the car looking worried. (Hours Later) Benita opens her eyes, Hitching her head” are you, OK mam. Benita heard a voice and sat up, looking surprised. “Where am I. She look around and noticed the food on the table ” She could feel the sound on her belly. Please, can I eat that’s” she stretched her hand to pick chicken? Of course, it all for you. Me. She dragged the plates close eating hurriedly like ever before ” She drank water and filled her cup with chivita. She noticed all eyes on her and forced a smile ” what happened to me. She asks, sitting up. You fainted ” she noticed ray and clean her mouth standing up “thank you. Am fine now ” I think I should leave. To where ” Hey. Sit. You don’t look OK “ray sit her down and gave his workers a signal to leave. ” Benita adjusted staring around “tell me. Where have you been after, you left the orphanage. “ That’s personal. Hey. Talk. Fine. I stay in a little room, called a hood. My money was stolen. I trek down to the spot you saw me. That’s sad. Anyway, relax we talk tomorrow ‘ it late you can’t go home.’ Chris left patting her shoulder ” She watches him left and return to the food she was eating ” she kept pepping and eating.

Some men make it known that marriage will be a real cliff-hanger When Jason Daniels wanted to propose to his rock-climber girlfriend, Melissa, he knew he would take her to the mountains for a good climb to do it, because nothing helps make a list of outrageous marriage proposals quite like a little danger. “She’s always scaling a mountain because that’s where she feels her calmest and most in her element, and that’s exactly where and when I needed to catch her for the proposal. I hid the ring box inside the water bottle I had attached to my harness and started heading down a really steep cliff with her. She was a few jumps ahead of me, and when I caught up—about 250 yards above the regular ground level—I popped the question. We were in a dangerous spot though so we couldn’t hug till we were all the way down. I got a quick ‘YES!’ and a peck on the cheek, and slid down a mountain as fast as I could. I couldn’t wait to call our families.”

A newly minted driver, Jerry was on his way to school one morning when he spotted Georgene walking with a friend. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled over and asked the girls whether they wanted a ride. They did. The friends climbed into the front seat, with Georgene sitting next to Jerry. The beautiful girl he had been pining for was sitting just inches away, and it petrified him. Unable to think of anything to say to break the ice, Jerry didn’t even introduce himself. Once at school, his passengers thanked him and went on their way. Jerry spent all day mulling over his next move. His plan was simple: After school, he would drive around until he saw Georgene walking home. Then, just as he had done that morning, he would offer her a ride. She would accept, sit next to him again, and that would be that, he thought. Happily ever after. When the last bell rang, Jerry raced to the parking lot and started driving around the school. He soon found Georgene walking with the same girl from that morning. Jerry pulled over and rolled the window down. “Fancy another ride?” he asked. Georgene looked at him. “No, we’re going to walk.” No? Jerry couldn’t believe it. In his mind, the three of them were already good friends. He slowly rolled the window back up and drove away, devastated. It only got worse. The following year—their senior year—he learned that Georgene was engaged. Jerry didn’t dare approach her again. After high school, Jerry found work making deliveries for an electrical and plumbing wholesaler. He enjoyed the job until he was sidelined by a back injury in 1983. Jerry, then 36, was forced to do desk work, which he hated. A divorce and the death of his father added to his misery.

shoulder.” “Next time I will,” replied Jack. On the Monday, Jack went out once more, and found a job with a cattle keeper, who gave him a donkey for his trouble. he Lazy Jack goes out to work, but he’s not used to earning a living, and he gets into all sorts of muddles. This old English story, collected by James Halliwell Orchard Phillips, is a good fireside yarn. If you know the story of the Golden Goose, you might see some similarities. It has a nice repeating structure, and by the end of it, you will probably agree with Jack’s mother, that he’s not the cleverest of lads. Read by Natasha. Proofread by Claire Deakin & Jana Elizabeth. Lazy Jack - Once upon a time there was a boy whose name was Jack, and he lived with his mother in a dreary cottage. They were very poor, and the old woman earned a few pennies by spinning, but Jack was so lazy that he would do nothing except bask in the sun in the hot weather, and sit by the corner of the fire in the winter time. His mother could not make him do anything for her, until at last she warned him that if he did not begin to work for his porridge, she would turn him out of the house to get his living as best he could. This threat finally stirred Jack, and he went out and found a job for the day working on a farm. The farmer paid him one penny, but he was not used to having money, and as he was coming home, he lost it as he passed over a stream. “You stupid boy,” said his mother, “you should have put it in your pocket.” “Next time I will,” replied Jack. The next day Jack went out again, and found a job with a cowkeeper, who gave him a jar of milk for his day’s work. Jack took the jar and put it into the large pocket of his jacket, spilling it all, long before he got home. “Dear me!” said the old woman; “you should have carried it on your head.” “Next time I will,” replied Jack. The following day Jack found a job with a farmer, who agreed to give him cream cheese for his work. In the evening, Jack took the cheese and went home with it on his head. By the time he

exploring to another rank, Mr. Armstrong emerged from the door, making the whole class to be mute once again. Everyone returned to their seats, including Eric, who was now giving Ella a deadly glare. “Good morning, sir,” all chorused as Mr. Armstrong dropped his teaching materials taking a good look at the class again. “Good morning, sit down,” Mr. Armstrong added as all sat down, bringing out their notebook to take down the notes. “Dude, why are you so rude to the new girl “? Mike whispered to him as he whispered back. “That’s the best way of making friends with her,” he replied. “But that’s not proper,” Mike added. “It is proper because if I do it in a friendly way, it will look as if I’m rushing her, but as it is now, if I become friends Witt her, everyone will be surprised at how we became friends,” Eric added. Mike seems interested in the topic because it was so tactical just as he wanted to proceed, the voice of Mr. Anderson’s voice came as everywhere became silent.

Online Creative Writing Courses and E-Books Story Structure (online course) Course description: Develop story ideas into gripping plots and satisfying stories. You'll learn how to craft the beginning, middle, and end of a successful story, and you'll create a detailed story plan that you can use for your stories or novels. Format: This course is conducted by e-mail. You will receive 1 lesson per week for 8 weeks. The first lesson will normally be sent to you within 1 hour after you confirm your course registration. You can complete the lessons on your own schedule, whenever you have time. With the e-mail support included in the course, you can ask questions about writing in general and get answers from a teacher. Please note that teacher feedback on assignments is currently unavailable for this course. Price: $26.95 Or click here to read more Essentials of Poetry Writing (online course) Course description: Learn essential techniques of poetry writing. Find out how to develop ideas into successful poems and use sound, rhythm, and imagery to create powerful effects. Format: This course is conducted by e-mail. You will receive 1 lesson per week for 8 weeks. The first lesson will normally be sent to you within 1 hour after you confirm your course registration. You can complete the lessons on your own schedule, whenever you have time. With the e-mail support included in the course, you can ask questions about writing in general and get answers from a teacher. Please note that teacher feedback on assignments is currently unavailable for this course. Price: $27 Or click here to read more Essentials of Memoir Writing (online course) Course description: This course will show you how to turn your life experiences into a successful memoir. You'll learn how to recreate your memories vividly on the page so that readers feel as if they're living them along with you. Format: This course is conducted by e-mail. You will receive 1 lesson per week for 8 weeks. The first lesson will normally be sent to you within 1 hour after you confirm your course registration. You can complete the lessons on your own schedule, whenever you have time. With the e-mail support included in the course, you can ask questions about writing in general and get answers from a teacher. Please note that teacher feedback on assignments is currently unavailable for this course. Price: $26.95 Or click here to read more Bringing Characters to Life (online course) Course description: Learn how to create fictional characters that feel 3-dimensional and real. Make your characters and stories come alive in the reader's mind. Format: This course is conducted by e-mail. You will receive 1 lesson per week for 8 weeks. The first lesson will normally be sent to you within 1 hour after you confirm your course registration. You can complete the lessons on your own schedule, whenever you have time. With the e-mail support included in the course, you can ask questions about writing in general and get answers from a teacher. Please note that teacher feedback on assignments is currently unavailable for this course. Price: $26.95 Or click here to read more Mastering Dialogue (online course) Course description: Improve your fiction with great dialogue. Learn how to create unique voices for your characters and write scenes with the right mix of "showing" and "telling." Use dialogue to make your characters and setting more vivid, and to improve plotting and pacing. Format: This course is conducted by e-mail. You will receive 1 lesson per week for 8 weeks. The first lesson will normally be sent to you within 1 hour after you confirm your course registration. You can complete the lessons on your own schedule, whenever you have time. With the e-mail support included in the course, you can ask questions about writing in general and get answers from a teacher. Please note that teacher feedback on assignments is currently unavailable for this course. Price: $26.95 Or click here to read more Through Your Character's Eyes (online course) Course description: In this course on narrative viewpoint, you'll learn how to pull readers deep inside your stories. Learn how to develop a unique voice and perspective for a character. Discover techniques to make readers feel like they're LIVING your stories instead of just reading them. Format: This course is conducted by e-mail. You will receive 1 lesson per week for 8 weeks. The first lesson will normally be sent to you within 1 hour after you confirm your course registration. You can complete the lessons on your own schedule, whenever you have time. With the e-mail support included in the course, you can ask questions about writing in general and get answers from a teacher. Please note that teacher feedback on assignments is currently unavailable for this course. Price: $26.95 Or click here to read more Irresistible Fiction (online course) Course description: Write stories they can't pu

Hi story lover! Today we are going to read a love story that is romantic and emotional. This story is based on school love, which is very common in our life. Everybody has a school crush or love, which is not forgettable. Our school life is the best moment in our life. All we have different types of love stories. Now, I’m going to share my school life love story. Let’s enjoy this story of love! Story Of School Girl’s Love The street was as busy as the international airport due to the vehicles struggling to pass to their different destinations. The car horn could be heard blowing for cars to leave the track for the long truck carrying cement. Jeffrey sat at the back seat of his father’s car, glancing at his wristwatch just to avoid being late to school. His father noticed it, glancing at him through the car mirror. “Calm down, boy, we are almost there,” the father said, and Jeffrey smiled at the mention of boy. Soon cars began moving, giving way to Jeffery’s car as he smiled, and his father noticed it and smiled along. Chapter 1 VISION SCHOOL The students were busy walking to and from just to meet up with time due to the strict principle that does not tolerate any illegal activity. The building was just astonishing, added to the long tall fence that demarcated the school from St. Paul Catholic school.

SKIP TO CONTENT Logo Intention Delights Books Wellness Favorite Things Subscribe Sign In LifestyleRelationships 18 True Romantic Stories That Are More Heartwarming Than Any Rom-Com Warning: You will need tissues. And maybe chocolate. By Melissa GoldbergPublished: Apr 29, 2021 preview for 6 Things You Didn't Know About Valentine's Day Of course The Notebook, Titanic, and When Harry Met Sally all have a special place in our heart (and film queue). But you know what we adore even more than these classic rom-coms? Tales of love that are actually real. In anticipation of Cupid's favorite holiday, we’ve rounded up the most touching and tear-jerking true romantic stories that are sweeter than anything you'll find in a Valentine's Day movie. So, while you're stressing about scoring the perfect gift for him, her, and everyone in between, let these tender accounts, stripped from actual headlines, remind you what February 14 is actually about...besides chocolate. Bob Harvey and Annette Adkins Bob Harvey first met Annette Adkins during study hall in 1955—and was immediately smitten. "I couldn’t take my eyes off her," Harvey told the New York Times. "She had auburn hair and a stunningly beautiful face and her eyes were just, wow." The two teens ended up going to prom together, but as many young relationships go, they lost touch after high school and married other people. Harvey never forgot about Adkins, though. In 2017, after his wife died, he searched for Adkins on Google and discovered she had also become widowed. He sent her a card with his phone number and after chatting for a bit, Harvey drove 500 miles to visit her, stopping only for gas and a bouquet of carnations. "I handed her the flowers, and then I cupped her face in my hand and said, 'Whether you like it or not, I’m going to kiss you,'" he recalled. In October, the high school sweethearts married at a '50s-style diner and danced to Johnny Mathis—just like they did at prom 63 years earlier. This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. Matthew Pomeroy and Natasha Lamb This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. Talk about an encore! On December 27, Matthew Pomeroy, who plays the title character in a British production of Aladdin, proposed to his girlfriend, Natasha Lamb, who plays Jasmine, just after taking their final bows. "For the last four years, you have changed my life," he told Lamb before pulling out a shining, shimmering, splendid ring. "I love you with all my heart. You're my best friend, and if you'd let me, I want to be your husband." This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. Elan Gale and Molly C. Quinn This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. What do you get when you cross an American actress with a former producer of ABC’s The Bachelor? A made-for-TV marriage proposal. During a weekend getaway to Seattle, Elan Gale and his then-girlfriend of eight months, Molly C. Quinn, stopped by a jewelry store where she fell in love with a vintage emerald ring. "If you ever do propose to me, try to find something to kind of look like this," said Quinn. The next day, Gale returned to the store, bought the ring, and placed it in a box under their bed—for the next three years. "That’s where the ring has been hiding for the last 40 months," he recalled in an Instagram post. "Three feet away from where Molly sleeps every night." In December 2019, while on a ski trip in Japan, Gale finally popped the question. Liz and Scott Shoesmith This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. This content is imported from youTube. You may be able to find the same content in another format, or you may be able to find more information, at their web site. Most wedding-planning checklists include picking a dress, finding a venue, and booking a photographer. Liz Shoesmith's also included learning how to sign the lyrics to one of her favorite songs. Instead of the traditional walk down the aisle, the Australian bride surprised her husband, who is deaf, by signing the words to Christina Perri's hit song, "A Thousand Years" as she walked towards him. "Every time I had practiced it leading up to the day I would make mistakes or go blank," she told Inside Edition. "But when I was left at the top of the aisle and locked eyes with Scott

Menu Prompts Contests Stories Blog Contest #182 winner 🏆 Careful—You’ll Slip, Fall, and Die on Those Slippery Slopes Submitted into Contest #182 in response to: Write a story where someone’s paranoia is justified.... view prompt  Liv Chocolate FOLLOW  126 likes  151 comments FUNNY CREATIVE NONFICTION This story contains sensitive content cw: references to sexual assault, kidnapping, and murder The first time I crossed a street by myself—as in, without one or both of my parents present—I was seventeen.  My parents warned me that the outside world was dangerous, and that, if something were to happen to me, I wouldn't know what to do. According to my parents, kidnappers, murderers, and kidnapper-murderers lurked on every corner of our small, suburban town where, statistically, my chances of becoming the victim of a violent crime were less than my chances of being allowed to cross the street by myself, or, more importantly, being allowed to sleep over at Taylor's house.  “What if something bad happens?” my dad argued when I asked why I couldn't spend the night. My mom agreed with him. “She lives too far away.”  Defeated, I looked out the window at Taylor's house across the street. I imagined what it’d be like to paint your best friend’s toenails Mystic Purple at midnight while telling her your deepest darkest secret. This, I'd confess between coats of paint, is my first time over at a friend's house. *** I stopped receiving birthday party invitations after around the fourth grade. I blamed it on the fact that I didn’t understand basic social dynamics but more on the fact that I became known as the girl who would bring her dad to your birthday party. The few parties I did attend, my dad stood next to me at all times, arms crossed, warning me of all the ways you could accidentally die or hurt yourself at a kid's birthday party. There was the cake you could choke on. There were the patio steps you could fall on and crack your head on.  One year, at my friend David’s birthday party, when everyone ran upstairs to see my friend’s Pokémon Ball, I followed, ecstatic, but something stopped me. I didn't know what it was until I turned around and found my dad pulling me back, as if stopping me from walking off a cliff. “Stay here,” he warned, and we sat on David's family's ugly floral couch, listening to my friends upstairs opening and closing the plastic Pokémon Ball. I pleaded with my dad to let me join them. “Do you know what a child molester is?” he asked me. As I heard David’s faint voice upstairs explaining to everyone the mechanisms of his toy, my dad explained to me that there are sick people in the world. Very sick people who like to put their hands in your pants and then cut up your body parts into tiny little pieces that fit in a garbage can.  There could be one hiding upstairs, he told me. A creepy uncle or something. I imagined my friends being chopped up into bite-sized pieces that could fit and be hidden inside David's Pokémon Ball. I wondered if we should rescue them, bring them down to the safety of the ugly floral couch. But just as fast as I'd had the thought, everyone came down, all in one piece, completely intact and untouched. From there, I was permitted to take approximately five stiff and awkward supervised jumps in the jolly jumper outside before my dad said it was time to go. *** By the time I reached my preteens, I’d finally negotiated myself the privilege of a play date. I’d never been on a play date before—that is, one that didn’t take place in my own home under my parent’s supervision.  At the time, my parents' stipulations were that: I could only go to Taylor's house across the street.      I had to bring a Walkie-Talkie with me in case I needed help.  I had to be escorted across the street to her house. No walking there or back alone. I could get run over and die.   I had to stay inside the house at all times. No playing in the front or the backyard.   And most importantly, no sleeping over.  The day of my first play date, my mom coached me on how to behave as she took me across the street. Say please. Say thank you. And tell them you’re not allowed to go outside.  I promised. Then, just like that, my mom left me at the door, a momentary illusion of freedom. Behind me, she was still standing across the street, monitoring my every move as I reached to ring the doorbell. Taylor's mom answered. “Hello, Mrs. Jones,” I said to her. “I thank you for having me over at your home. I will not be allowed to go outside. I have to stay inside at all times.” She let out a wtf laugh. “Um. Okay. Come in.”  I stepped inside. I still remember the feeling of the plush carpet under my shoes. That day, for what was maybe only one or two hours, Taylor and I played Barbie’s Horse Adventures: Wild Horse Rescue on her PS2. I still remember the feeling of the plastic buttons under my fingers, helping Barbie locate her missing horses--horses who'd gone missing

Log in Menu Prompts Contests Stories Blog Contest #179 winner 🏆 Resolute Submitted into Contest #179 in response to: Write a story in the form of a list of New Year's resolutions.... view prompt Saeda Rose FOLLOW 146 likes 90 comments THRILLER CRIME SUSPENSE This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse. 1: Exercise More! Buy the shoes. It’s okay, screw the budget, that’s not this year’s resolution. You deserve this. When the saleswoman asks you if you’ve done much running, laugh and gesture to your mid-section. The woman will blink, force out a half-baked hah. It’s a reaction of discomfort, not cruelty; you made it weird. You don’t know why you feel the need to shame your own body in front of a stranger, but you blame it on her lululemon leggings and air-hostess smile. She makes you nervous. Most people do. When you go outside, sit next to a man on a bus bench. He’s reading a book, and you recognize the cover from an English course in college. A man’s body, clad in red, knight-like armour, with a white mask where his head should be. The mask is smiling and handsome on one side, twisted and snarling on the other, with a hollow void where his eyes should be. The Mysterious Stranger, by Mark Twain. Good taste. When you sit, notice how the man’s eyes dash over in your direction. It’s almost imperceptible, and no other part of him moves an inch. Convince yourself that the chill trickling down your spine is a sign of an early winter wind. The sweat beneath your arms says differently. Change into your new shoes right there on the bench. They’re tight, but almost comforting, reminding you of the cattle squeeze chutes on the farm you grew up on. Your new shoes are white, because white seemed luxurious and fresh and symbolic (new beginnings, clean slate). Now, curse and rub your own spit into a dirt smudge on the side. Remember that white is rarely ever white at all—think of the stains spreading like mould along shower walls. When the bus arrives, sit near the front. You’ll only take it half the way home today and walk the rest (new year, new you). The man with the book sits at the back of the bus. This is your bus stop, in a residential area you don’t know well. Apparently, it’s his bus stop too. Start walking. Notice he is walking too. This shouldn’t make you nervous. You always see the worst in people. What is wrong with you? Therapy should have been one of your resolutions. It’s been fifteen minutes. You’re almost home, but you don’t want him to know where you live. So you walk past the turn to your street and feel your heart drop to your toes. You can smell the fishy stench of your own stress-sweat leaking through your corduroy jacket. Twenty minutes. Almost out of the residential area. In a couple blocks, you’ll be on commercial drive, where you can enter a café, or a bar, and have a panic attack in a graffitied bathroom stall until the perceived threat is gone. It wouldn’t be the first time. When construction blocks access to the street crossing you meant to take, you’ll have to find a detour. Luckily, there’s an alley to your left, a shortcut to safety if anything. You just need to move fast. Good thing you bought those shoes. When you hear the man’s footsteps beating at your heels, run. 2: Eat Healthier! Start your day off right with his bento box leftovers. He ate all the shrimp from the noodles and the sushi on the side but saved you the edamame. That’s alright, you didn’t need those extra calories anyway. Don’t make all that running and fighting from yesterday for nothing. Take a bite. You’re not hungry, but you don’t know when the next time you’ll see food again will be. The noodles are cold, and they slide down your throat like earthworms. Don’t complain about the temperature. Your mom always told you microwaves were evil anyway. You crouch over the food on a cold concrete floor. You’ve stopped crying long enough to take in your surroundings. You are confined to a small circumference around your bed with a chain clamped around your ankle, the other end of it welded to a rusty metal pole coming out of the ground. The chain rattles with each move you make. Your bed is in the center of a room, bits of foam scattered around it from mice chewing the mattress. Next to it is a bucket, where eventually you will have to relieve yourself, though you’ll hold it in until it hurts. There are no windows down here, and it smells like an old boyfriend’s basement; a combination of mildew and old socks, air so thick you feel as if you could cut into it with a knife. The corners of the room are dark but packed with things. Boxes stacked haphazardly, shelves overflowing with old books, loose papers on the ground. You can’t make out what any of the books say on the spine, as much as you try to strain your eyes. So much for that clue. When he tells you to eat, you eat. Whatever he wants with you, he doesn’t want you dead. Yet. Take comfort in this. Hide the fork from

Menu Prompts Contests Stories Blog Contest #172 winner 🏆 Apples and Trees Submitted into Contest #172 in response to: Write about a character reminiscing over something they should have said, and how their life would be completely different had they said it.... view prompt Lisa Lange FOLLOW 178 likes 132 comments COMING OF AGE FICTION SAD This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm. Mom works. She never picks me up from school, and two miles is too close for a bus pickup, which is fine by me because I like cutting through the woods. Especially on autumn days, when the air is cool, and the flies and mosquitos are gone, and basketball practice hasn’t begun. I like the quiet. I like the wordlessness of the walk. A pretty sugar maple dressed in vivid orange frills beckons me off the path. I stand to look at her. I sound like a weirdo, I know. A sixteen-year-old boy calling a sugar maple pretty. It was Dad that taught me to appreciate trees before he hung himself from one. I love ‘em even more, now, Dad and trees. Did you know the oldest maple is five hundred years old? They call it the Comfort Tree. Dad said all trees are comfort trees. I search the sugar maple for a perfect orange leaf - I think I’ll press the leaf between two sheets of waxed paper like I did when I was a kid – but I can’t find a perfect orange leaf. It doesn’t matter. We don’t even have waxed paper at home. We don’t save things at home. I follow a line of golden, round-leaved aspens to the creek, a grove of clone trees grown from the root system of the male. “Aspis means shield in Greek,” Dad said. “Aspens are protectors and inspire courage.” Brave aspens. Magic aspens. I wonder, Dad, did it take courage to kill yourself? Did you care about leaving me? “Depression is a villain,” the therapist said. “That villain convinced your father the world was better off without him.” I could have slayed the villain. If I had only told Dad how much I needed him. I sigh. I try to take a deeper breath. I inhale the dank smell of cold dirt and dropped leaves. I smell Dad, the amalgam of decomposition and old blood. I didn’t know what the smell was when I was a kid. I didn’t know what a medical examiner did. The smell was a thick smell and sweet. I knew, only, that the smell was my dad. I’ve got a friend, Jimmy, who likes the smell of skunks. My backpack is light, no books, not much homework. With it being the end of the semester and the week before Thanksgiving, teachers don’t add to their piles of ungraded papers. I drop my bag at a willow. I strip a branch of its leaves. I sit on a rock. I pretend to fish. “Knock. Knock,” I say. “Who’s there?” “Fish on a hook out of water.” “Dad? Is that you?” I reach to unhook him, but he slips through my fingers. How did I let my dad slip through my fingers? “It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do.” The therapist said it. Mom said it, but I know Mom doesn’t feel that way. I keep photographs of Dad in a tackle box. His eyes look sad even as his face smiles. In a birthday photo, we wear matching red hats on our heads, the paper cone kind with the elastic bands that dig under our chins. His body leans into me. His arms hug me enthusiastically. He looks at me. I look at the cake. My mouth is open in the ready position to blow out six candles. I am happy. We were happy. But I see his sadness captured by the photograph. Maybe because his smile looks a little like the same fake smile, I make in all my school pictures. Maybe because his lips are dry and look a little too stretched over his teeth. Or because the corners of his mouth don’t go up into his cheeks in an easy way. I am seven years too late for more knock, knock, jokes. I am seven years too late to make him laugh, seven years too late to make him happier, seven years too late to give him reasons to stay. I should have made him not want to leave us. I want to tell Mom that I walk through the woods, but she worries. “Apples and trees,” I heard her say. “I will spend my life trying to keep him alive.” She means me. She means keep me alive. I want to tell her that her burden makes me angry, that it crushes me, that it flattens me. I want to tell her not to worry about me, but I’m scared. I’m scared as if her thought is a premonition. I pick up my backpack and I follow the creek that leads to the oak tree in the yard, to the black scar on its trunk from where a thick limb once reached upward. I sit on a branch that spreads over the ground. All the oak’s branches have turned toward the ground. “Dad?” I smell decomposition and old blood. I smell the vanilla in the old oak’s tree bark, the smell Dad taught me to notice. I feel the strength in the old oak’s trunk. In the kitchen I see the bowl full of apples, a white oak bowl full of red apples. It hits me why the bowl is there. Seven years of apples in a white oak bowl sitting on the kitchen countertop and I only, now, see why my mom puts them there. “Ap

Menu Prompts Contests Stories Blog Contest #181 winner 🏆 Out of Place on the Appalachian Trail Submitted into Contest #181 in response to: Write about a character who’s climbing a mountain, whether internal, external, or both.... view prompt  Aeris Walker FOLLOW  187 likes  231 comments ADVENTURE CONTEMPORARY AMERICAN My backpack weighs 31 pounds, and it barely fit into the trunk of Jen and Steve’s Honda. I don’t think they believed I was actually going through with this until I called and asked for a ride up the mountain. Jen gave me that look, that pitying, tight-lipped smile, but she helped Steve and I load up my things, and then they bought me lunch before dropping me off at the trailhead. Jen cried, and Steve gave me a can of pepper spray and an awkward side hug. So here goes nothing. I’m at Springer Mountain, Georgia, with zero miles down and only 2,190 miles to go. See you on the other side.   Mile 8 I can feel my heartbeat in my feet, but I made it to the first campsite. I’m exhausted, but in that good I-did-a-hard-thing kind of way. I had trouble setting up my tent—broke a nail just getting it out of the bag—but there was another group at the campsite and some nice college kid saw me struggling, jogged over to help, and then had the whole thing up in under a minute. He looked at me funny, and I’m sure he was wondering what I was doing all the way out here instead of lounging on my sofa with a glass of chardonnay and an Oprah’s book club novel, but he didn’t pry. Mile 19 Well, I pooped in the woods today. You would have laughed at me as I hunted for the perfect spot, then deposited and buried my own waste like some dainty, purebred housecat. I laughed at myself too. Mile 49 I’m already behind schedule. I wasted hours repacking my bag yesterday to redistribute the weight, as one hiker told me it would be less strain on my back to move the heavier items to the center. So I took everything out and repacked it as tightly as I could, which took forever. The hiker hovered nearby the entire time, obnoxiously commentating on all my belongings, and when he finally left, I sat down to write, only to find I’d somehow buried my journal. So, I unpacked my whole bag again, rummaging through my gear like a madwoman, just to then see the journal had been sitting on a rock next to me the whole time. Even in the cold spring air, I was red-faced and sweating. Mile 65 My feet are killing me, but I think I’ve finally broken in these fresh-out-of-the-box hiking boots. I fell asleep last night listening to the crickets and thinking about you. Mile 87 I met an interesting hiker today who said this was his second thru hike. He looked at least 10 years older than me and called himself “Pinetree.” All skin and bones with a long scraggly beard, he looked like a castaway stranded in the woods, though I got the sense he liked the solitude. He’d jutted out his bearded chin at me and said, “Nobo?” “What?” I huffed out. “North bound?” “North bound? Oh. Yes. I am.” I had to pause and catch my breath after each sentence. “Just getting started.” He looked me over and clicked his tongue. “You’re carrying too much weight.” I was momentarily offended before realizing he meant my pack. “How?! I left so much behind. I need all of this.” He was quiet, chewing his lip. “Give it a few more miles. You won’t feel that way then.” We continued walking; his stride was twice that of mine, but he slowed and matched my speed, and we hiked in companionable silence until I stopped for lunch. He kept walking. “When you’re ready to let some of that go, you’ll feel much lighter. Trust me.” Then with a final, “take care out there,” he disappeared around the next bend. His reprimand irritated me, but the frustration kept me going for a good four or five more miles. I envied him: so confident and free. He reminded me of you. Mile 112 I pulled eight ticks off my legs yesterday. There were probably more where I couldn’t see them, and that thought kept me awake all night, tossing and turning and twitching in my tent until the exhaustion pulled me into fitful sleep. I dreamt that my hiking boots jumped off a cliff, and I had to walk the rest of the trail with my feet covered in orange plastic ramen noodle wrappers. Mile 148 I met some thru hikers from South Dakota (which I had completely forgotten was a state) who were both in their 80’s! We talked the whole way, and it helped the miles pass quickly. They told me the secret to longevity is to never stop moving. Mile 162 I’ve been making better time; today was my record so far—14 miles. A rather uneventful 14 miles, though I did see a porcupine, which was interesting. I always thought they’d be…spikier…?   At the shelter, I removed three shirts, a book, and a tube of lotion from my backpack and left them in a giveaway box. It made a surprisingly noticeable difference. Mile 169 Well, those 14 miles about killed me. I slept late today, then took two ibuprof

Menu Prompts Contests Stories Blog Ice Cream With Awkward Sprinkles Submitted into Contest #81 in response to: Write about someone asking out an old crush, only to realize their crush doesn’t remember they’ve ever met before.... view prompt Amany Sayed FOLLOW 92 likes 61 comments ROMANCE HIGH SCHOOL FUNNY Cris had never regretted dying her hair blonde more than the fateful Sunday she decided to go to the beach. Or maybe, she had never been more grateful. Nonetheless, nothing could have prepared her for what would happen on the day she self consciously stepped out of her car, dyed hair in a ponytail and the sun mercilessly beating down on her. Going to the beach alone is not a fun way to spend a Sunday, but sitting home alone is almost worse, so she decided she’d rather at least take the chance of finding shells or swimming and maybe having fun rather than being yelled at by her mom again as she would’ve been had she stayed home. She grabbed her phone, sunglasses, and purse from her car before slamming the door and curling her toes in her run-down sneakers. She started walking towards the sand when her foot caught on something or another and she fell smack dab on her face. She wasn’t one for makeup, so the only thing bruised was her pride, though thankfully, no one was watching(she hoped). She huffed and picked herself up, checked her phone for cracks, and set off again. The walk was long, the wind-nonexistent, the noise-extreme, the heat -neverending, the hair-on her face. When she reached the sand, she had just about decided to walk right back to her car and drive herself to an ice cream shop when the look of the lifeguard caught her eye. The brown hair was the same as she remembered, the cheekbones a little more defined, and of course, he looked older, but it was unmistakably him. Middle school memories suffocated Cris in a blur and she nearly fell again before steeling her legs and sighing. She forced herself to look away and bit the inside of her cheek, wondering if he would remember her. Of course, she remembered him. Middle school crushes are like that one time you might have not answered the phone, and your mom never let you forget it. They always come back at the worst times. Cris adjusted her fingers around her phone and wondered how much money she had in her car. Maybe a couple twenty dollar bills. How many pints of ice cream could she buy with that? A light gust of hot wind blew by, reminding her how hot it was. She brought her eyes to the lifeguard chair again, glancing for a quick second before turning away. Five minutes. She would take a dip in the water to cool herself down before leaving. That was all. She walked with her head held up high and it took every fiber in her being not to look back at the person sitting in the lifeguard chair. And it turned out, she didn’t need to make any effort. He was coming down. It was evidently the end of his shift, and he was replaced by another guy, someone in his late teens as well. Cris tried to pay him no mind as she neared the shore, setting down her towel and phone to the side. She set them down a considerable distance from the water, took her sneakers off, and then inched closer herself. She plopped down and dipped her toes in the water, which was at just the right temperature. Of course, it would be perfectly normal for her to maybe stay for a little longer, and then go home, and that would be that. But this is a story, and there’s obviously more. Middle school was a very interesting time for Cris. She went through about three friend groups, braces, multiple sports, and only one crush. His name...well, you wouldn’t believe me, but his name is Romeo. Serious. Cris wiggled her toes in the waves, staring at her pedicured nails. Peacefully. At least, it was peaceful until someone sat down next to her. She was almost too scared to look to her side, but she forced herself to, and there, in sunbathed glory, was no, not Romeo, but Lorelle. One of the girls from Cris’s first friend group. If she wasn’t talking, she was eating, and Cris wondered if she could escape before being forced to engage in small talk. “Hi! I’m Lorelle, what’s your name?” Evidently, she couldn’t. Cris held her breath, wishing to become invisible. “Hello?” “Are all the people from my middle school past coming to haunt me?” “What?” “What?” Lorelle laughed, dragging her finger in the wet sand. “You’re funny, I like you. What’re you doing at the beach?” Cris stifled an eye roll. Classic, nosy Lorelle. “Cooling down a little.” “Cool, me too! I was here with one of my friends, Nova, but she left earlier. Nova’s funny too, you’d like her I think- what’s your name again?” Cris was spared that much at least. The whole reason she broke away from the first friend group was Nova. The girl was involved in drama like somebody paid her to do it. “I didn’t say.” Cris tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. If she didn

refused to start. Power levels in and out, and amperage drain on the circuit all pointed to it still running, but…nothing. Even after unplugging the power supply, the device still showed current flowing through the circuits consistent with being powered on. The pot of coffee long since empty, we/I prepared for bed. In front of the sink, we/I looked into the mirror. The same eyes, the same fine lines around them, the same hairline, but a masculine and feminine form both visible in the mirror. It was strange, and perhaps even more unnerving than the awareness of being two versions in two universes simultaneously. We/I called the university and had our/my TAs take over lectures for the rest of the week. Every waking minute was spent in the garage, trying everything to reset the devices. We/I finally decided to destroy them. Break them down to unusable debris and never attempt this experiment again. As the week went on, we/I felt our link growing weaker. She/I and he/I could still sense one another, but it was as though our local consciousness was again taking the forefront. The final memories we/I had together were on Saturday evening. She/I was in a diner he/I usually frequented, while he/I was in a bar where she/I was a semi-regular. Chloe left the booth where her similarly tattooed and pierced friends were laughing boisterously and approached. “Dr. Worth? I thought you said chicken and waffles sounded disgusting.” “It wouldn’t be fair to dismiss it without empirical evidence. And I’m off work; call me Samantha, or Sam.” “What’s the verdict, Sam?” I smiled. “It’s fantastic. Just the way I remembered from another universe.” Chloe laughed. “You’ll have to tell me about that some time.” “Nope.” “And, how you plan on traveling to another universe.” Caleb entered the bar with other members of the swim team. “Come on, guys. Quit trying to hook me up. I just want to have a beer then go back to the dorms and study.” He saw me at the bar and approached. “Dr. Worth! I never see you here.” “Hey, Caleb. I’m off work, call me Samuel, or Sam.” “Well, Doc—Sam, I didn’t take you for the wine type.” I swirled the glass of red and took another sniff. “I remembered enjoying this in another universe,” I said. “Is it as good in this one?” “It is.” “Do you think it’s actually possible to travel to another universe?” he asked. We/I began explaining to Chloe and Caleb how the universe is well within the Schwarzschild radius for the amount of mass present, and how that presents the possibility that the universe itself has an event horizon we are well inside. It was some time during that explanation that I no longer felt my other self, and suddenly felt very alone.

annoyance, but now it was torturous. Alice arrived most days in the evenings, dog on leash, travelling from gate to gate, presumably as part of a larger loop. I screamed in agonized frustration each day as she left me, yearning to be seen, to be known. To touch and be touched.  Inspiration came one morning when I observed a dew-covered spiderweb, branching and complex, ordinarily invisible, but illuminated by its wetness in the bright morning sun. Nearby, a hummingbird was extracting nectar from a group of flowers. I hardened my heart and reached for the small bird. Unsure what force my invisible fingers could produce, I was as shocked as the hummingbird when I was able to grasp its tiny, almost weightless body. I twisted its neck decisively. Raised it to my lips. My invisible and blunt but persistent teeth tore at the sinewy body. Feathers twisted and fluttered to the damp earth as warm, small organs burst against my lips. Blood and entrails ran down my chin, coating my mouth and face.  The wait for her was tortuous. I distractedly observed yellowed leaves fluttering to the ground from the oak trees on the hill. Finally, the light started to ebb from the afternoon, turning the sky into a dusty grey. I heard her approaching and stood at the gate’s entrance, willing my nervous mouth - the contours of which I hoped were now, at last, visible - into a smile of greeting.  At first I thought that my plan had failed- they were only a few steps away and continuing unconcernedly. Suddenly though, the dog stopped, eyes fixed on my face, and uttered a low growl. The girl, confused and worried, stopped as well. She looked at the dog, and followed its gaze to the space where I stood in front of them. My smile widened; I was exhilarated by my scheme, ready, for the first time in over a century, to be seen. My Alice stumbled backwards, her eyes wide and a scream beginning in her throat. There was a perfect moment, before she ran, where we looked right into each other's eyes.

A few months ago, we asked you to nominate your favorite horror novels and stories, and then we assembled an expert panel of judges to take your 7,000 nominations and turn them into a final, curated list of 100 spine-tingling favorites for all kinds of readers. Want to scar your children for life? We can help. Want to dig into the dark, slimy roots of horror? We've got you covered. As with our other reader polls, this isn't meant to be a ranked or comprehensive list — there are a few horror books you won't see on it, despite their popularity — some didn't stand the test of time, some just didn't catch our readers' interest, and in some cases our judges would prefer you see the movie instead. (So no Jaws, sorry.) And there are a few titles that aren't strictly horror, but at least have a toe in the dark water, or are commenting about horrific things, so our judges felt they deserved a place on the list. Sponsor Message  SUMMER READER POLL 2017: COMICS AND GRAPHIC NOVELS Let's Get Graphic: 100 Favorite Comics And Graphic Novels  100 BEST BOOKS Happy Ever After: 100 Swoon-Worthy Romances One thing you won't see on the list is any work from this year's judges, Stephen Graham Jones, Ruthanna Emrys, Tananarive Due and Grady Hendrix. Readers did nominate them, but the judges felt uncomfortable debating the inclusion of their own work — so it's up to me to tell you to find and read their excellent books! I personally, as a gigantic horror wuss, owe a debt of gratitude to this year's judges, particularly Hendrix, for their help writing summaries for all the list entries. I'd be hiding under the bed shuddering without their help. And a word about Stephen King: Out of almost 7,000 nominations you sent in, 1,023 of them were for the modern master of horror. That's a lot of Stephen King! In past years, we've resisted giving authors more than one slot on the list (though we made an exception for Nora Roberts during the 2015 romance poll — and she's basically the Stephen King of romance.) In the end, we decided that since so much classic horror is in short story format, we would allow authors one novel and one short story if necessary. So screw your courage to the sticking point, and dive into this year's list! Here are some quick links to make it easier for you to navigate: Sponsor Message Blood Roots, Zombies And Vampires And Werewolves, The Fear In Our Stars, Horrible Homes, Final Girls, Horribly Ever After, Hell Is Other People, Short And Sharp, Scar Your Children, The Kids Aren't All Right. Blood Roots: Foundational Horror Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Mary Shelley's tragically misunderstood monster turns 200 this year, and he is still lurching along, one of the most influential creations ever committed to the page. While reviewers at the time condemned Shelley's "diseased and wandering imagination," her vision of human knowledge and technological advancement outstripping humanity's ability (or inclination) to use that knowledge responsibly still resonates today. Dracula by Bram Stoker OK, it wasn't the first vampire novel, but Bram Stoker's most famous work was certainly the first book to pull together all the qualities we now associate with vampires — except the sparkling: Transylvanian, aristocratic, dangerous to young women, so, basically Bela Lugosi (who was actually Hungarian, but oh, that accent). Much like its monstrous companion Frankenstein, Dracula wasn't initially regarded as a classic — but once the film adaptations began to appear, it quickly achieved legendary status. 'Young Goodman Brown' by Nathaniel Hawthorne Nathaniel Hawthorne's short story is the ur-American horror tale. Published in 1835, it's short and savage: A young husband travels through the dark woods and stumbles upon a satanic orgy. Everyone he knows is there, including his lovely young wife. Then he wakes up in his own bed. Was it all a dream, or do his neighbors lead secret double lives? Is his wife a blushing bride or an emissary from hell? Modern America still lives in the shadow of these implications. 'The Tell-Tale Heart' by Edgar Allan Poe Why do you think I'm mad? I'm just nervous. Nervous, I swear. Look at how calmly I can write up this summary of one of Edgar Allan Poe's most famous stories, about an unnamed narrator recounting how he killed the old man with the "evil eye." It wasn't the man, you see, but his "evil eye"! But what's that noise? Louder! Louder! Louder! It is the beating of his hideous heart! 'Carmilla' by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu "I have been in love with no one, and never shall," whispers the lovely vampire, "unless it should be with you." Long before Dracula had any brides, Sheridan Le Fanu's deliciously shivery novella gave readers a thrill with its barely-veiled lesbian subtext. Though lesser known than Bram Stoker's work, "Carmilla" was a great influence on Dracula — and a classic in its own right. 'The Turn Of The Screw' by Henry James Nobody's entirely sure w

Without her there…there was a lot of space. Maybe that was why she liked the way she felt when she visited the cemetery. It was familiar. Erica leaned over and kissed the gravestone one last time. She felt that jolt of electricity coursing through her, that piece of evil that seemed to come from Madeline. She had always understood Madeline’s hatred because she felt the same way. She had just never done anything about it. At least until the day of the accident. No, they were not so different, were they? As Erica turned to leave, another bolt of lightning bent the sky white and purple. Just at that moment, she swore she saw a hand reach out of the ground, grab her ankle and yank her. When the darkness enveloped her again, she saw she had only tripped over her own two feet. There was nothing there. No hand sticking out of the ground, no ruptured earth. Still, Erica was shaken. She scurried out of the cemetery, her heart pounding in a way it hadn’t in a whole year. The entire time, she continued to look over her shoulder, expecting to see Madeline. She swore she heard her chortling behind her, but as she reached her car, she realized it was only the thunder. She thought about the day recently, when she’d tripped heading down the front steps of the house, how she’d sworn she felt a hand shove her from behind. There was no one there though, and she had chalked it up to needing her morning coffee more than she realized. Now though, Erica wondered. Wouldn’t that be just like the maniacal, manipulative, psychotic Madeline to be able to cause trouble from beyond the grave? She quickly shook her head, as if to clear that thought away. This was just PTSD from years of abuse, left-over trauma from what she’d done. It was not Madeline. As she threw the car in reverse to turn around and hightail out of the cemetery, she remembered that day in all of its vividness, and she knew she’d done the right thing. There was only so much Madeline could do anymore, being dead and all. Erica was glad she was dead! She was glad she was the one who made it happen. Madeline wasn't the only one who was maniacal, manipulative, psychotic. No, they were not so different, after all. 

10 Lines Short Stories With Moral Lessons for Kids Moral Lessons, Most Popular When trying to impart an important moral lesson to kids, short stories are often the go-to for most parents. It not only tickles their imagination, but it also teaches them about life. Short stories have a way of teaching lessons that makes them more relatable and interesting. Rather than just telling your kid not to lie, relating a short story about it helps them understand what happens when they lie. It helps them become more aware of their actions and their consequences. The moral lessons from these stories also help shape their character and moral compass as they grow old. Here are 10 short stories with moral lessons that your kids (and even some adults) will learn a thing or two from: 1. The Hare and the Tortoise There was once a hare who was friends with a tortoise. One day, he challenged the tortoise to a race. Seeing how slow the tortoise was going, the hare thought he’ll win this easily. So he took a nap while the tortoise kept on going. When the hare woke up, he saw that the tortoise was already at the finish line. Much to his chagrin, the tortoise won the race while he was busy sleeping. Moral of the story: There are actually a couple of moral lessons we can learn from this story. The hare teaches that overconfidence can sometimes ruin you. While the tortoise teaches us about the power of perseverance. Even if all the odds are stacked against you, never give up. Sometimes life is not about who’s the fastest or the strongest, it’s about who is the most consistent. 2. The Dog and the Bone Once there was a dog who wandered the streets night and day in search of food. One day, he found a big juicy bone and he immediately grabbed it between his mouth and took it home. On his way home, he crossed a river and saw another dog who also had a bone in its mouth. He wanted that bone for himself too. But as he opened his mouth, the bone he was biting fell into the river and sank. That night, he went home hungry. Moral of the story: If we always envy what others have, we’ll end up losing what we already have, just like the greedy dog. 3. The Thirsty Crow After flying a long distance, a thirsty crow was wandering the forest in search of water. Finally, he saw a pot half-filled with water. He tried to drink from it but his beak wasn’t long enough to reach the water inside. He then saw pebbles on the ground and one by one, he put them in the pot until the water rose to the brim. The crow then hastily drank from it and quenched his thirst. Moral of the story: If there’s a will, there’s a way. Every problem has a solution if we just look hard enough and don’t give up. 4. Lazy John There was a boy named John who was so lazy, he couldn’t even bother to change his clothes. One day, he saw that the apple tree in their yard was full of fruits. He wanted to eat some apples but he was too lazy to climb the tree and take the fruits. So he lay down underneath the tree and waited for the fruits to fall off. John waited and waited until he was very hungry but the apples never fell. Moral of the story: Laziness can get you nowhere. If you want something, you need to work hard for it. 5. The Fox and The Grapes Once there was a hungry fox who stumbled upon a vineyard. After seeing the round, juicy grapes hanging in a bunch, the fox drooled. But no matter how high he jumped, he couldn’t reach for it. So he told himself that it was probably sour and left. That night, he had to sleep on an empty stomach. Moral of the Story: Most of us have the tendency to act like the fox. When we want something but think it’s too hard to attain, we make up excuses. We tell ourselves that it’s probably not that great instead of working hard for it.  6. The Ant and The Grasshopper The ant and the grasshopper were good friends. In the summer, the ant works hard to fill his storage with food. While the grasshopper was enjoying the fine weather and playing all day. When winter came, the ant was lying cozily in his home surrounded by the food he stored during the summer. While the grasshopper was in his home, hungry and freezing. He asked the ant for food and the ant gave him some. But it wasn’t enough to last the entire winter. When he tried to ask the ant again, the latter replied: “I’m sorry my friend but my food is just enough for my family to last until the end of winter. If I give you more, we too will starve. We had the entire summer to prepare for the winter but you chose to play instead.” Moral of the story: Winter, in this story, represents a time in our life where food and resources are scarce. While summer is that time where everything is abundant. So if you have a lot right now, save some of it for the winter. 7. The Boy Who Cried Wolf There was once a shepherd boy who liked to play tricks. One day, while he was watching over the herd, the boy decided to play a trick and cried “wolf! wolf!”. The pe

This is a short story composed by my 6 year old daughter Aarika Once upon a time, there was a lazy boy. He was very lazy. His name was Soma and he lived in Pune. He went to school daily but because he was very lazy he did not study. As a result he got a wrong in everything at school. He became very upset. So he said to his mother one day that he wanted to get out of this school. Then his mother admitted him to another school. In that new school, everything was Ulta-Pulta. They gave right for wrong answers and wrong for right answers. This worked well for Soma because now  in the final exam when he gave wrong answers, he got everything right and full marks. He was very happy now. He decided to stay in this school till college. As the years went by, he reached the last standard in the school. He remembered his decision to stay back in this school till college. So he told the principal about it. But the Principal said no. Soma asked the Principal to allow him to continue college in the same school because it was a good school. But the Principal refused. So Soma went back to his mother and told her about it. His mother also said it was not possible. Soma was unhappy. One night, he tore a page from an old notebook and wrote on it – “I am leaving home and going to see the world”. He stuck the note on the door and left. He boarded a train. He looked around and saw that all the people in the train looked like Chinese people. So he thought that the train was going to China. He wanted to go to Mumbai but since the train was going to China, he thought he will get down in Mumbai. But in reality, the train was going to Ahmedabad. So he reached Ahmedabad in the morning. He thought what to do now because he wanted to go to Mumbai. So he bought a house which had a computer. Using the computer he booked a flight ticket for Mumbai. It was a late night flight. After reaching Mumbai, he found another house and a college. He studied in the college and grew up. Meanwhile, his father and mother did not find him at home in the morning and saw the note on the door, which said that – I am leaving home and going to see the world. They tore the note and threw it away in the dustbin. Soma’s parents had a magic computer which they never showed to him. They opened the computer and saw everything on it – how Soma boarded the train, reached Ahmedabad and then to Mumbai and also which college he joined. They also typed into the computer – How many years old is Soma now? Soma wanted to get married but he did not find any girl. He became old and still could not marry because he did not get any girl. Moral of the Story – Remember that kids must stay at home with parents in order to find a girl to marry.  

s. When I ask him about Ninh’s family, I realise we’ve gotten to the core of the problem. “They don’t like me,” he says. “Ninh tells me it’s better that I don’t visit them too often.” “Why not?” I ask, even though I can guess the answer already. “They don’t like that I used to be a street kid,” he tells me. Yep, just as I suspected. A street kid in Hanoi. He goes on: “They don’t think it’s a good life for their daughter to marry someone who used to be so poor. They think that street kids are bad people.” I’ve heard this many times before, and every time it infuriates me. It’s one of the reasons that so many of the Blue Dragon kids want to hide their own true history as they grow up, afraid that they’ll experience this discrimination and prejudice. For the girls, it’s even worse. Most of the girls and women we rescue from slavery have been sexually exploited. They’ve either been sold as brides or forced into brothels. Finding them and getting them to freedom is just the beginning of their healing. Once home, these girls have extreme trauma to deal with. While I am amazed at how many return to their homes and start their lives over, I know how unbelievably difficult it is. I am painfully aware of those who are shunned by their own communities – and sometimes their own families – and will never be able to hold their head high again. I think it’s worth adding that this stigma isn’t unique to Vietnam or to Asia. Street kids and victims of sexual crime in every country are looked at with judgment and suspicion. (Surely you could have just stopped it or called for help… And what were you doing wrong in the first place that you ended up in that situation?) But here’s the thing. Tay is a wonderfully kind, clever, hard-working young man. I can’t imagine the inner strength that he needed as a child to leave an abusive family, survive on the city streets from the age of 13,  and then turn his life around when finally someone offered help. Once he met Blue Dragon, Tay returned to education and later got a job that he loves. He lives with such dignity; his experiences have strengthened him, not made him weaker. And then there are the girls we rescued from trafficking. The courage that they have to call for help is superhuman. Those who make that call and then trust us to find them and bring them home are taking a huge risk. They can be killed if the trafficker knows they plan to escape. After all they’ve been through, I don’t know how they have the strength to keep going. But they do, and their bravery should win them awards, not scorn. It’s sad that these kids grow up to face discrimination when they deserve admiration and respect. These young people are an asset to society: resilient, creative, determined. Yes, they are victims of a crime, but they are also heroes who have overcome extreme hardship. Kids who have been through traumatic events deserve our support to take back control of their lives. Those events may shape them, but they don’t define them. And above all, a terrible experience – like homelessness or trafficking – does not make them bad people. Thanks for reading Life Is A Long Story. To find out more about Blue Dragon’s work, drop by the website: www.bluedragon.org. Posted onFebruary 5, 20231 Commenton Bad people Perfectly imperfect Blue Dragon rescued Tan from slavery. A year later, he was on his way to prison for a serious crime. One question I’m often asked about our work with young people: What is Blue Dragon’s success rate? Here on the blog and in Blue Dragon’s public communications, we want to share inspiring stories. Stories of kids we met in extreme circumstances like slavery or homelessness, but who are now thriving. There are plenty of such tales to tell. But do all the kids ‘make it’? Are we cherry picking our stories? Or worse still, are we cherry picking the kids we will help based on those we think have the most potential? Part of the answer to these questions lies in the name of my blog. Life is a long story. It’s never smooth or easy, and there’s no true story without major challenges along the way. And not every story has a happy ending. Something I’m proud of at Blue Dragon is that we embrace the nuance. We accept that things don’t always turn out as we would wish. After all, that’s life. One of my colleagues recently commented to me that our work is “perfectly imperfect” and I’ve been thinking a lot about what she means. About 12 years ago, we rescued a little boy named Tan from a sweatshop. He had been trafficked by a gang that preyed on extremely poor families, promising them free vocational training for the kids and a chance to earn good money. It was all lies. But these families were desperate, living in plastic and bamboo shacks and hadn’t been to school themselves. So after Blue Dragon brought Tan home, we helped his family to turn things around. We built them a new house and paid for all the kids to go to school. We even helped Tan’s mother sta

have an epiphany and commit their lives to the service of others. Even if we could see into their future and know what they would one day do, we would still care for them in their moment of need. Blue Dragon’s work isn’t about helping just the kids who will one day be ‘highfliers’. It’s about giving everyone a chance. And if we do that, then we’ve succeeded – no matter what happens next. Thanks for reading! If you share our vision of a world where every child has the chance to thrive, be sure to visit Blue Dragon’s website to learn more about what we do.

Tay is a wonderfully kind, clever, hard-working young man. I can’t imagine the inner strength that he needed as a child to leave an abusive family, survive on the city streets from the age of 13,  and then turn his life around when finally someone offered help. Once he met Blue Dragon, Tay returned to education and later got a job that he loves. He lives with such dignity; his experiences have strengthened him, not made him weaker. And then there are the girls we rescued from trafficking. The courage that they have to call for help is superhuman. Those who make that call and then trust us to find them and bring them home are taking a huge risk. They can be killed if the trafficker knows they plan to escape. After all they’ve been through, I don’t know how they have the strength to keep going. But they do, and their bravery should win them awards, not scorn. It’s sad that these kids grow up to face discrimination when they deserve admiration and respect. These young people are an asset to society: resilient, creative, determined. Yes, they are victims of a crime, but they are also heroes who have overcome extreme hardship. Kids who have been through traumatic events deserve our support to take back control of their lives. Those events may shape them, but they don’t define them. And above all, a terrible experience – like homelessness or trafficking – does not make them bad people. Thanks for reading Life Is A Long Story. To find out more about Blue Dragon’s work, drop by the website: www.bluedragon.org

 A love story Two love struck teens were kept in captivity for four long years… but nothing could shatter their dreams. Every day in the sweatshop was exhausting. Some days were terrifying. Tieu and Nguyet had grown up in the mountains. Their village was little more than several timber houses on stilts. Tieu was a few years older than his girlfriend Nguyet. They had gone to school together, staying at a boarding house in the nearest town. By the time they both left school, they already knew they wanted to marry. But first they needed to save up some money. To have a traditional wedding was not cheap and they wanted to get their lives together off to a good start. So they both felt very lucky when the strangers came through their village, offering jobs as tailors. The jobs were in Ho Chi Minh City. Neither Tieu and Nguyet, nor anyone in their village, knew how far away that was. They shrugged their shoulders and accepted the good fortune, boarding a bus to take them to the other side of the mountain. Tieu and Nguyet’s dreams took a dark turn. Ho Chi Minh City was over 1,200km from their home – a journey by bus of several days. Never in their lives had they travelled so far. As soon as they set out, their phones were taken from them. As people of the Khmu ethnic community, their fluency in Kinh language skills – what we normally call the Vietnamese language – was limited. They didn’t know what to do. For four years, they were put to work in a factory churning out cheap clothes. Night and day, they sat at the machines or on the concrete floor, cutting and sewing fabric. One day, the factory owner came to speak to Tieu. Now a young man, the owner wanted to send him away. Keeping children in these conditions was one thing; as they became adults, they were not so easy to threaten and control. Finally Tieu had his chance to go home. This was the moment he had been dreaming of: except for one thing. The owner was not yet ready to release Nguyet. Tieu refused to leave. He would only go home when Nguyet could go with him. And so they stayed. By chance, it was around this time that Blue Dragon heard about Tieu, Nguyet, and almost two dozen other children and teens from their community who had gone missing. When we found the factory and all of the ‘workers’ were set free, none were happier than Tieu and Nguyet. We travelled home with them to make sure they could all return safely to their families. In the years since then, we have continued working with their communities to keep people safe from trafficking and exploitation like this. Factories like the one that forced Tieu and Nguyet to work are now rarely to be found. So what became of Tieu and Nguyet? Double happiness, a traditional symbol used at Vietnamese weddings. Within weeks of returning home, they made a call to Blue Dragon, inviting us to join their wedding party. It wasn’t the grand affair they had once dreamt of, but they had their families and friends – and their freedom. That was more than enough. Valentines Day is a day to celebrate love. Blue Dragon is working every day to keep children and families safe, so they can lead the lives they dream of.

YOU ARE HERE: HOME / LOVE AND ROMANCE / SHORT STORY LOVE: HER ENDLESS WAIT – AN UNTOLD LOVE Short Story Love: Her Endless Wait – An Untold Love PUBLISHED BY ARUN1408 IN CATEGORY LOVE AND ROMANCE WITH TAG FRIENDS | LOVE | LOVE-2012 [Short story love “Her Endless Wait – An Untold Love” is selected for Love’2012 Story Writing Competition]  Short Story Love - An Untold Love Sometimes it’s very hard to write some stories on papers. Not because they are tough to explain but actually they are so painful that even thinking about those real incidents fills your eyes with tears and shakes your body in pain. I am writing one such story (with a few imaginary sentences). But those with whom this happened are now very much far from me. I can’t see their eyes. But a few years back I have definitely seen, what people often refer as LOVE……..They taught me the actual meaning of love. Friends some love stories have very happy endings, some have very sad. But some stories end with leaving nothing for the pages of history. That’s why I have chosen one of them to draft on papers in my story, so that they remain forever in reader’s hearts. Chandu and Sweety, were two of my classmates, very much close to each other. I said very close because I don’t have bigger scale to measures how much close they were to each other. They knew they can’t ever afford to live without each other. But unfortunately they had never realized that probably they were in love. That’s why they never expressed their feelings to anyone. And this turned out to be the biggest mistake for them. It shifted the destiny other way. That birthday party of Manu (one of our classmates) , he told Chandu about his love for a girl, and asked Chandu to help him by saying that it was a question of life and death for him and he was the only person who could do it for him. Chandu, didn’t know that destiny was playing with him, he promised his friend Manu to give whatever he would ask, after all it was his birthday. And that happened what no one could have ever imagined for. He asked his heart, his sweety from him. The moment he pronounced her name from his mouth Chandu shook like earth was quaking. But he had hidden his feelings behind his eyelids and decided to stick to his promise with his friend. He lost his world but not his words. He put all his efforts to persuade Sweety for Manu. Helpless Sweety decided to burn all her dreams for the promise of his love Chandu. After schooling Chandu left the city for some reasons. Years after schooling they met each other in temple and this time eyes found them unable to hide what was untold for years. Sweety told about how Manu tortured her and requested Chandu to come back in her life exactly where he had left earlier. Chandu had no options except to hold his love at that tearful moment. Sweety didn’t waste a single second in telling Chandu about all, what she had felt from childish friendship to teenager love. Honest towards his love, he promised sweety to stand by her every single moment of her life. But equally truthful to his friendship he requested sweety to forget everything and accept Manu as his life partner. At first Sweety was not ready to drink this poison again but helpless before Chandu’s resolution she decided to accept Manu. Chandu was on the way to Manu’s home to tell him the good news. But manu had some other plans for his friend. He was prepared for something else. As he saw his friend Chand approaching him he fired, and within seconds Chandu was on the road. All the happiness vanished. At those dying moments he told Manu about Sweety’s acceptance of his proposal and left everybody forever. After that day what happened to that sweet girl, no one knows. But I am sure she must be somewhere very alone, waiting for her Chandu. __END__

MasterClass logo |Articles All Categories Community And Governmentcategory Wellnesscategory Design & Stylecategory Arts & Entertainmentcategory Writingcategory selected Sports & Gamingcategory Science & Techcategory Musiccategory Foodcategory Home & Lifestylecategory Businesscategory Community And Governmentcategory Wellnesscategory Design & Stylecategory Arts & Entertainmentcategory Writingcategory selected Sports & Gamingcategory Science & Techcategory Musiccategory Foodcategory Home & Lifestylecategory Businesscategory Community And Governmentcategory Wellnesscategory Design & Stylecategory Arts & Entertainmentcategory Writingcategory selected Sports & Gamingcategory Science & Techcategory Musiccategory Foodcategory Home & Lifestylecategory Businesscategory WRITING Word Count Guide: How Long Is a Book, Short Story, or Novella? Written by MasterClass Last updated: Sep 4, 2021 • 4 min read There are a lot of elements that go into writing a story, like fleshing out characters, piecing together the plot, and crafting the perfect ending. On the technical side of things, authors need to consider the number of words that will be in their completed manuscript. There is a sweet spot when it comes to word count, and it’s based on a book’s genre and target audience. Follow this rough word count guide as you embark on your literary journey.  Learn From the Best Foodcategory Design & Stylecategory Arts & Entertainmentcategory Musiccategory Businesscategory Sports & Gamingcategory Writingcategory selected Science & Techcategory Home & Lifestylecategory Community & Governmentcategory Wellnesscategory Foodcategory Design & Stylecategory Arts & Entertainmentcategory Musiccategory Businesscategory Sports & Gamingcategory Writingcategory selected Science & Techcategory Home & Lifestylecategory Community & Governmentcategory Wellnesscategory Foodcategory Design & Stylecategory Arts & Entertainmentcategory Musiccategory Businesscategory Sports & Gamingcategory Writingcategory selected Science & Techcategory Home & Lifestylecategory Community & Governmentcategory Wellnesscategory   Teaches Writing   Teaches Dramatic Writing   Teaches Writing   Teaches Writing   Teaches Writing for Young Audiences   Teaches Creative Writing   Teaches Writing Thrillers   Teaches Fiction and Storytelling   Teaches Reading and Writing Poetry   Teaches the Art of Storytelling   Teaches Mystery and Thriller Writing   Teaches the Art of the Short Story   Teaches Storytelling and Writing   Teaches Storytelling and Humour   Teaches Writing for Television   Teaches Screenwriting   Teaches Creating Outside the Lines   Teaches Writing for Social Change   Teaches Fiction, Memory and Imagination   Teaches Fantasy and Science Fiction Writing   Teaches Poetic Thinking   Teaches Writing and Performing Poetry   Icons and Their Influences Sign Up SAVESHAREShare on twitterShare on facebookShare on pinterestShare on your network Jump To Section 3 Reasons Word Count Is Important in Writing How Long Should a Novel Be? How Long Should a Novella Be? How Long Should a Short Story Be? How Long Should a Young Adult Novel Be? How Long Should a Middle Grade Book Be? How Long Should a Children’s Book Be? How Long Should a Picture Book Be? Want to Learn More About Writing? Dan Brown Teaches Writing Thrillers 3 Reasons Word Count Is Important in Writing While there are no hard and fast rules on the amount of words a book needs, there are highly-suggested guidelines in the traditional publishing industry, especially for first time authors. Let’s face it, we can’t all be J.K. Rowling right out of the gate with a bestseller as our first book. Unless you’re self-publishing, you’ll need to pay attention to how many words you use to compose your first draft. Here are three reasons why word count is important: 1. Shorter novels are more marketable. A literary agent and traditional publisher are less likely to take a chance on long novels when they come from a new writer. An adult fiction book is most marketable in the suggested word count. 2. Longer novels are more expensive to print. Longer books increase the number of pages that need to be printed. That makes them more expensive to print and a bigger investment. 3. Audiences expect a certain word count. Audiences are used to a certain story length and page count, so an unknown author can attract more readers by staying in the expected range. Meet One of Your New Instructors  Sign Up How Long Should a Novel Be? If you’re writing your first novel, the general rule of thumb for novel writing is a word count in the 80,000 to 100,000 range. While anything over 40,000 words can fall into the novel category, 50,000 is considered the minimum novel length. Anything over 110,000 words is considered too lo

 “Saaaaasa, Saaaasa! Unaitwa nani?” He asks. He reaches out and strokes her cheek. She grabs his thumb and coos. She tries to say something but it comes out as a baby’s babbling. He is playing with my child. I am stuck in bed for the 3rd time this month. The chemo ravaging my body and leaving me too weak to do anything but sit and take it in. The baby likes him, you can tell the affection is genuine. Like she knows that this is a man who can be trusted. They’ve been at it for the last 15 minutes. Him asking question, and she answers them. He pulls out his phone, shows him pictures of his children, her aunties and uncles. He explains to her who they are and where they are. She sits quietly concentrating on all this. Asking questions after every 3 pictures, and he answers them gracefully. “Huyu ndioni Uncle Kariuki, first born wangu. Unamjua?” “Ayayaya aya ta” “Eeee ni yeye anakuwanga mkubwa” “Ayaya ya taya” All this time saliva dripping from her mouth. The nurse comes in. Asks if I am okay, I nod. He plumps up my pillow, checks my Stats and then changes the IV. All this time my daughter is too distracted to notice his mother is dying. In that moment, I am grateful. To God, the Universe, my ancestors to everything for whatever I did right. To deserve a man, a father as good as him. If he raises her up as well as he did me. She might not notice her mother is not around.

Of Harpers and Heroes Submitted into Contest #183 in response to: Write a story about two characters whose paths briefly cross, but are actually going in opposite directions — whether literally or figuratively.... view prompt A smattering of applause dappled the last notes of his song. He let it die out in the darkening tavern before rising, joints stiff from the long performance. “Play the one about the Hero of Faron,” a voice slurred from a dim recess. “Aye, that’s a good ‘un,” Harrow acknowledged agreeably, hoping to collect his dinner without a confrontation with yet another inebriated villager. Slinging his guitar over his shoulder, he called out, “mayhap tomorrow night.” The drunk set up a complaint cut short by the innkeep harrumphing her way between them like a disgruntled walrus. Harrow sighed in relief. Once he would have favored a good fight, but those days were past. The innkeep handed him a deep wooden bowl of stew with a small loaf of bread teetering on the rim. “Take a seat, harper. You earned your keep for the night.” “Obliged, Margrie,” he murmured. Margrie never tried to cheat him of his pay in whatever form it came. Tonight’s was in board and lodging. Tomorrow, he’d move on, up towards Green Haven, where he might get paid in slightly used boots, or a good whetstone, or maybe even a new blanket. He played life by ear, did Harrow, taking what came his way, leaving what stood in it. He shuffled across the rushes and settled into the only unoccupied table in the room, its wooden surface pitted from idiots playing the finger dance in their idleness and boredom. Digging in, he barely noticed when a small pale form slid onto the bench opposite him, and when he did, it was too late to deny the intruder a place at his table. She had already set down her bowl and loaf as well as two steaming mugs of tea, one of which she slid across the table to him. Well, if she was buying, he’d not say no. “Margrie says you care not for ale, so I hope tea is welcome,” she offered. He lifted it, inhaling its fruity tang. “It’ll do. Now what do I owe you for this mug o tea?” “A story,” she said simply. “I’ve just been singing stories this past pair of hours. My word horde is empty.” “Not stories of heroes,” she said. “I’ve heard them all. How they set out on their quest, conquer their fears, best their opponent, ride home victorious.” She flapped her fingers at her side as if to say, ‘it just never ends.’  “You are bored of the stories of heroes?” Her fair hair shimmied as she nodded, the tips dipping into the broth. “Aye, full to my eyelids with such tales.” “You are young to be so jaded.” “Not so young. I’m 16 this past winter.” “Ahh, 16 to my 60.” “Huh.” “Huh, what?” “I had thought you older.” She gestured vaguely to his white beard. He grinned. "I'll take the compliment. So what story is it you wish to buy with this fine mug o tea?” She leaned toward him, announcing, “I’m on a quest.” He nodded gravely. So many bright young faces had sat across from him at so many scarred tables and blurted out their aspirations, their eyes fixed blindly onto their futures. He sighed. Harrow saw his own future clearly enough, but only because it was so well lit by the lantern of his own long past. Right now, his immediate future was looking like it might be eclipsed by this young hopeful and her head full of dreams. He assessed the threat to his quiet evening. He had skill at reading the clues his audiences wore, which would ensure he might better please them with his selections and better end the night with a full belly. This young lass, for instance. She came from the mid-lands - obvious by her wide pants and red belt. From the merchant class – evident by the bright ribbon she was now threading in her hair to keep it out of her stew. Educated - revealed by the corners squaring the cloth bag at her side. Those could only be books, too many of them for a foot traveler, which meant she was well off enough to travel on horseback. He re-evaluated his estimate; she was from a wealthy household. “Go home,” he said simply. Sometimes there is nothing else to say. This girl was a walking hazard to herself, a pothole in her own road, and likely bad luck to those she encountered on her way. She blinked and the shadow of disappointment whispered over her features before being swept away by the optimism of youth. Instead, she countered, “You didn’t.” That caught him off guard. She might be quicker of wit than anticipated, he considered. “True. I didn’t go home. But I learned that quests aren’t all they are cracked up to be in the songs.” “Then why do you sing them?” “Look around you,” he answered. Through the haze of smoke, he gestured to the worn faces of farmers staring down into their ale, the woman knitting by the fire with her cracked hands, the aged couple with the bags at their feet as tattered as their

Bob Harvey and Annette Adkins Bob Harvey first met Annette Adkins during study hall in 1955—and was immediately smitten. "I couldn’t take my eyes off her," Harvey told the New York Times. "She had auburn hair and a stunningly beautiful face and her eyes were just, wow." The two teens ended up going to prom together, but as many young relationships go, they lost touch after high school and married other people. Harvey never forgot about Adkins, though. In 2017, after his wife died, he searched for Adkins on Google and discovered she had also become widowed. He sent her a card with his phone number and after chatting for a bit, Harvey drove 500 miles to visit her, stopping only for gas and a bouquet of carnations. "I handed her the flowers, and then I cupped her face in my hand and said, 'Whether you like it or not, I’m going to kiss you,'" he recalled. In October, the high school sweethearts married at a '50s-style diner and danced to Johnny Mathis—just like they did at prom 63 years earlier.

Bob Harvey and Annette Adkins Bob Harvey first met Annette Adkins during study hall in 1955—and was immediately smitten. "I couldn’t take my eyes off her," Harvey told the New York Times. "She had auburn hair and a stunningly beautiful face and her eyes were just, wow." The two teens ended up going to prom together, but as many young relationships go, they lost touch after high school and married other people. Harvey never forgot about Adkins, though. In 2017, after his wife died, he searched for Adkins on Google and discovered she had also become widowed. He sent her a card with his phone number and after chatting for a bit, Harvey drove 500 miles to visit her, stopping only for gas and a bouquet of carnations. "I handed her the flowers, and then I cupped her face in my hand and said, 'Whether you like it or not, I’m going to kiss you,'" he recalled. In October, the high school sweethearts married at a '50s-style diner and danced to Johnny Mathis—just like they did at prom 63 years earlier.

Rahul and Rita were inseparable friends.. They had a lot in common.. They were neighbors, studied together, had same aspirations and almost all their hobbies were similar.. They were friends from when they learnt to walk and talk gibberish.. They trusted each other to the core and swore not to leave the other’s side.. While kids, they spent most of their time with each other and while in their teens, they did have other friends but still refused to budge from each other… They were often subjected to ridicule from their other friends about talking too much with the other gender and as it happens often in schools, rumors spread like wildfire that they were in relationship. But still, they cared not about anything their classmates said about them, and their parents too trusted them because they have known each other for so much a long time… Once, while studying in class 10, they were playing cricket.. It was only the two of them because the others were playing basketball and these two deplored the game.. Rahul was bowling while Rita stood ready with the bat… A ball was bowled and Rita hit it with a dang force that it went straight for the principal’s window and shattered it into fragments.. They immediately went to his office to apologize.. The principal asked them who was the culprit.. Before Rita cold say anything, Rahul prompted “sir, it was my fault. I didn’t bowl the ball correctly.. I’m sorry” Rita wasn’t going to give her friend up so she said, “No sir, Rahul bowled it correctly.. I wasn’t attentive enough..” They kept backing each other and finally, the principal himself calmed down and said “you two are so much a good pair of friends that you refuse to put the blame on the other.. How can I punish such a pair of good monkeys?? Go on, enjoy playing…” They shuffled gladly out of the office and Rita thanked Rahul profusely… Time passed by, and the duo finished schooling.. right from their childhood, the journalists appearing on TV have been a fascination.. They decided to opt for an English course to gear up for an appointment… In this span of two years, Rahul got a girlfriend.. Rita was so happy for him but their happiness was short lived as Rahul’s girlfriend got frustrated seeing him always with Rita and finally one day, asked him to choose between her and Rita. Rahul said “Rita has been my best friend for more than a decade now and I cannot leave her friendship for an unsteady relationship”. They broke up. After two years, the course completed and they decided to opt to work as partners in crime dealings.. As their parents were dead by now, they always vowed to be together.. They submitted their applications in a reputed news channel and stated their line of interest.. The chairman requested Rahul to wait outside and asked Rita “Can you leave your friend and join here?? I’ll pay you double..” But Rita refused and said that she wouldn’t leave her friend at an cost… When Rita went outside, he called Rahul in and asked the same question and got a similar answer… Then he called both of them inside and said “to become partners in something so trivial needs harmony between the duo.. I see it in you.. You are appointed”.. The duo were happy beyond words.. Time raced by, and they became accomplished senior journalists.. They were present in every crime scene ranging from normal murders to terrorist attacks.. They had become quite famous in their field.. And neither thought anything about getting married… Once, the media was bustling with news about a drug dealing gang.. They did have the photos of the gang members, but nobody knew of their whereabouts… Then one sunday, the duo decided to go to for a luncheon.. They went zooming down the lane in Rahul’s bike.. On the way, they had a near miss accident with a man in a hoodie… The man was also in a bike and they nearly crashed into each other at a sharp turning and in the tuft of air, the hoodie came off… Rita remembered seeing the guy somewhere and then in a flash, she recollected that this guy was a member of the drug dealing gang… She asked Rahul to pursue the man… They drove for quite a while and reached a warehouse, not very far from the city… The man descended the steps down the warehouse and the duo, ensuring they were unseen, followed suit… They decided to separate and vediograph anything they saw as an evidence of the dealings… Rahul moved right while Rita moved left.. Rahul stealthily walked down and he did see the entire gang there.. He took his phone and began gathering evidence.. In the frenzy of it, he didn’t notice a metal rod in his path and tumbled on it.. The gang, alerted by the sound, started searching for him.. He wanted to hide but he couldn’t move an inch.. As he lay there, squirming in pain, the gang caught hold of him.. They dragged him to their leader.. Rahul knew he was doomed but he prayed that Rita went out safely…. He was dragged and thrown in front of the leader.. The leader asked him who he was but Rahul refused to

 of the outstanding stories of the second biannual International Short Story Contest 2017 written by Aanchal Girwar, India. A Lazy Boy Once upon a time their lived a boy whose name was Rahul. He was very lazy. His father and mother were very upset and all the villagers were also upset with his bad habits. Whenever he goes to school he is late every day because in the evening he plays a lot and at night he sleeps very late so he cannot wake up early in the morning. When he comes back from school he throws his bag and dress here and there and starts watching TV. He disturbs all the villagers and every time the villagers would complain to Rahul’s father about his naughtiness and his parents would try to advise him to be a good boy. But he will not listen. Once at Rahul’s school there was a parents-teacher meeting so his parents went to his school. They were waiting for their turn to meet his teacher and enquire about his progress at school; soon they got the chance to have a word with the teacher. But even his teacher complained about Rahul’s behavior and told them that he disturbs the class and never listens to anyone. Rahul’s parent were very sad and disappointed that their son never listens to anyone. His teachers were also trying to make him a good boy but all their efforts were futile. One day he reached his school late as usual but he decided that he will change from now on. So for completing his work he decided to take his friend’s Tofu's notebook. After completing the notebook, he wanted to return it but Tofu did not come to school the next day. So he went to Tofu's home with his father but there he saw something that changed him completely. Tofu's room was neat and tidy and he did his homework on time. He also helped his father and mother and only after taking permission from his parents did he go out for playing. Rahul’s father told him that this is how a child should be and he realized that if my friend can be a good boy so can I and then he decided to change. All villagers were excited to see the changed Rahul. And from that day he used to complete his work on time and used to eat on time and sleep on time and after that day he was not a lazy boy anymore. Rahul’s mother and father were also very happy to see that their boy who was once so lazy has now become a good boy who helps them also. And now he respected all elders and started to behave properly. Rahul thanked his friend Tofu for bringing this change in him. Moral: We have to do our work on time and should help each other. And we should not be a bad person and should always Lessen lazy boy       All rights reserved. Copyright © 2023 LM Digital Media

Things you buy through our links may earn New York a commission. 90 Books Every Comedy Fan Should Read The essential comedy library. By Brian Boone and Jenny Nelson Hey, it’s books! Books have a lot going for them. They make you look smart when you read them, people leave you alone if you’re reading one in public, they’re cheaper than movies, and they’re really just a whole bunch of tweets strung together. Books are very important to comedy, and historically they’ve been the one medium that takes comedy as importantly as it should be taken, in terms of its history, execution, theory, and practice. Here then are 90 comedy and comedy-related titles — memoirs, fiction, essay collections, interviews, TV tie-ins, and more — that a student of comedy’s library simply must include. Memoirs & Autobiographies A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers (2000) Eggers is a fairly important individual in humor and letters, what with founding McSweeney’s and becoming a successful novelist. His first book, however, was this hilarious sort-of memoir, or rather autobiographical novel. After detailing life as a young gadabout forced to grow up fast when a tragedy leads to him raising his brother, we get back into the funny, massaged adventures of the go-for-broke Eggers, such as how he runs the much-missed magazine Might and unsuccessfully auditions for The Real World. Based on a True Story by Norm Macdonald (2016) Comedians and comedy nerds love Norm, but why? It might be because he sarcastically and boldly ignores the rules, like regular joke rhythms or not being polite — he once told actress on Late Night that her terrible movie was terrible. As such, Norm takes his own approach to the stand-up memoir, turning it into something that’s painfully true and also preposterously not true, but delivered with Norm’s familiar deadpan. It keeps you guessing, like, did he really bring out morphine and a syringe during his SNL audition? Born Standing Up by Steve Martin (2007) Including all entertainment memoirs, not just comedy people, is Steve Martin’s, and not just because of Martin’s unsurprisingly beautiful prose. Unlike most memoirs, it seems to convey a clear-eyed honesty, as Martin seeks to de-mythologize his own life, one that the rest of us have so mythologized, specifically his days in the 1970s when he was a stadium-filling stand-up comedian. (He even calls it a biography, and not an autobiography, because he’s “writing about someone I used to know.”) He’s so honest with himself and the reader that when he explains why it is he quit comedy to pursue acting, art, and writing, the reader understands. Bossypants by Tina Fey (2011) You can’t be Tina Fey, but you can get close to understanding what it is like to be Tina Fey, whose rise seems both hard and easy, probably because she is Tina Fey and equipped with the life, managerial, and comedic skill to do so and make it look easy (or at least make hard work look fun). Constantly interrupting herself with jokey but relevant life advice (“talent isn’t sexually transmitted”) and self-deprecating one-liners, Fey charts her rise from Pennsylvania nerd to Chicago improv comedian (and employee of the city’s creepiest YMCA), up through SNL, 30 Rock, and motherhood. Daddy’s Boy by Chris Elliott (1989) Elliott, the “Guy Under the Stairs” on Late Night with David Letterman, the thirtysomething paperboy on Get a Life, and the cabin boy in Cabin Boy, has written a few fake nonfiction titles, such as Into Hot Air, about his disastrous, not-real ascent of Mount Everest. But the innovative, meta-comedian wrote an actual, mostly truthful book with Daddy’s Boy, as the subject is too real — it’s about growing up and forging one’s own identity and voice in the wake of phenomenally successful parents in the same business. After all, he’s the son of Bob Elliott of the classic comedy duo Bob and Ray. It’s the rare book that’s also self-accountable, because after every chapter Chris Elliott delivers, Bob Elliott gets his own rebuttal chapter. $47 AT AMAZON  $16 Forever, Erma by Erma Bombeck (1996) For most of us, our comedy education all started with the same things: Sesame Street, whatever comedy albums our parents had lying around, and whatever funny books were on our parents’ bookshelves. For me, because my parents are old, that meant the complete works of Erma Bombeck, books with titles like If Life is a Bowl of Cherries, Why Am I Stuck in the Pits? and other now-tired aphorisms. But come on, if you want a complete and exhaustive comedy library, you have to include the greats that maybe didn’t age well, but which paved the way for today’s comedy section at the bookstore, which is essay collections of comedians, columnists, and, for some reason, YouTube stars. Bombeck did stand-up comedy on the page, most

Business News Daily receives compensation from some of the companies listed on this page. Advertising Disclosure Home > Grow Your Business > Your Team How Your Team Can Benefit From Work Management  Max Freedman Business News Daily Contributing Writer Updated Jan 24, 2023 Work management differs from project management. Work management helps companies put procedures in place that employees follow to complete projects and tasks. Work management is the use of workflows to develop and distribute information in the form of individual and team tasks. Work management comprises project, resource, time, process and client relationship management, in addition to business intelligence. This approach improves the consistency and quality of employees’ work across all departments. This article is for business owners and managers interested in using work management to guide their teams and improve product quality. Research shows that just over 1 in 5 companies use standardized project management systems to guide their work. However, this same report found that more than 2 in every 5 companies that report poor project performance fault a lack of supervisor involvement as the cause of those struggles. But there’s a twist: Project management is only one part of a comprehensive approach to resolving common business problems. Work management has the potential to solve many of the problems that companies often attribute to poor project management. What is work management? Work management is the oversight and supervision of all individual and team tasks and task lists within one project or across a company’s operations. What does work management include? Work management comprises the following six business areas: Project management. Project management is perhaps the largest component of work management. It involves a project manager who coordinates and assigns work and deadlines, then delivering the results to clients. Time management. Employees only have so much time each day to perform their tasks. To keep your projects on schedule, you must allocate tasks evenly among team members. Time management is thus dividing and conquering tasks. In doing so, you should respect employees’ work-life balance and not push team members past their work capacity. Resource management. Resource management is the creation, maintenance and distribution of all of your company’s resources. Such resources can include tangible items, such as inventory and equipment, or they can include intangible assets, such as patents or copyrights. Process management. Process management involves the smart and considered use of resources. Unlike resource management, process management concerns resources only as they’re used for analyzing, measuring and improving business processes. Client relationship management. While much of work management concerns internal operations, client relationship management encompasses all communication with current or prospective customers. Most companies use customer relationship management software for this task. Business intelligence. Business intelligence is the use of technology to collect and analyze data, thus resulting in actionable items. In the context of work management, business intelligence can involve implementing new initiatives based on your competitors or managing a department’s performance. Did you know? Work management includes project, time, resource, process and client relationship management, as well as business intelligence. Why is work management important? Work management introduces reusable workflows that your team can use time and again for completing tasks. Put another way, the more closely you guide the tasks of all your employees and teams, the more consistent your product’s quality and delivery timeline can be. Additionally, work management often leads to workflows that can be applied to any task or team, rather than one project or department. These workflows often reflect your company’s overall goals, so in completing them, your employees may come to better understand your business’s mission. Key takeaway: Work management matters because it makes your employees’ work more consistent and aligns it with your company’s mission and values. Work management vs. project management Work management and project management are often intermingled. This confusion is understandable, since, in business lingo, we often think of all work as comprising several smaller projects. It follows that work management is project management, but in reality, the former is far broader than the latter. Project management concerns one deliverable, even if that deliverable comprises several additional deliverables. For instance, if a client hires your marketing company to execute a content campaign, the project goal is the completion of the campaign. Manage this campaign requires dividing all ad creation, implementation and reporting efforts, and deadlines among your team. Work management, on the oth

Skip to content  thinkwritten CREATIVE WRITING PROMPTS 108 Romance Writing Prompts & Love Story Ideas Chelle SteinSeptember 23, 2021 Everybody loves a good love story – here are 108 romantic writing prompts and love story ideas to inspire you!  As an Amazon Associate we earn from qualifying purchases. Thank you for your support! Everybody loves a good love story, and with these romance writing prompts for romantic fiction, you are sure to find some inspiration to write a story for the ages.   These romantic writing prompts are free for you to take and let your imagination run wild. Use them as novel ideas, short stories, screenplays, or just try them as creative writing exercises to stretch your imagination.  Romantic Fiction Writing Prompts and Story Starters Please note: We use the pronouns “she and he” in some of these examples, but of course you have the freedom to reverse and change genders as you see fit!    365 Writing Prompts 1. Their story begins on a bright summer morning when they both awake in bed together with no memory of who they are or where they came from. 2. She is determined to go on an epic road trip this summer. When her best friend bails out at the last minute, she talks one of her co-workers into joining her as a reluctant sidekick for the adventure of a lifetime.  3. Write a story where one character finds the other character in their tent while camping alone. 4. Our heroine catches the hero stealing food from the restaurant where she works. Is he a bad guy or is there more to this story? What happens when she realizes she is falling for him? 5. A mysterious stranger leaves an item at the main character’s front door with a note attached saying “For a rainy day”. 6. Our hero is a jet-setter whose father has died and just left all of his possessions to someone else. He’s about to demand the rights to his inheritance when he realizes maybe he likes this person. 7. Write a romance story about an undercover cop investigating a person for a crime they didn’t commit. As the cop learns more about them, they realize they are innocent and they might be falling in love. 8. The heroine’s father warns her that she’ll be in terrible danger if she accepts the hero’s marriage proposal. 9. Our two characters are shipwrecked after an unexpected storm. They find themselves on an island where they are forced to spend their first night together under the stars. 10. An impromptu dance competition is announced at the bar where two characters are enjoying an evening of drinks. Do they have what it takes to win the contest and at love? 11. The hero is the brother of the person our heroine has had a crush on for years – who is also her best friend. 12. Write a love story where two single parents drop their kids off at the same daycare every morning. When they run into each other, will they be ready to give love a second chance?  13. She has a secret thinking spot on the roof of a nearby building. When she goes there after learning she lost her job, she discovers someone sitting there. 14. Our characters are both recovering addicts. They both have had problems with alcohol and drugs – will they be able to stay clean long enough for true love to find them? 15. Our characters are on vacation in the countryside of a foreign country when they accidentally crash their cars into each other, resulting in them being sent to the same hospital where they share a room for a week. 16. Our hero and heroine meet in line at the grocery store almost every week. After constantly running into each other, he finally asks her out. 17. The heroine’s wedding is cancelled the day before she was supposed to walk down the aisle. She isn’t sure how to pick up the pieces so goes to the beach to sort herself out, where she finds herself falling for someone new. 18. The might be lawyers on opposite sides of many cases, but they can’t deny that there is something between them… 19. The two of them are in a band together, hoping to get their music heard by the world. They start falling for each other, but will it rip the band apart? 20. Our main characters are both struggling to find their places in the world – one feels like their parents never supported their dreams, and the other left their hometown behind without any plans to return. Together, they learn what it’s like to be true to themselves for the first time. 21. They’ve lived together in the same apartment building for years and have a somewhat passive aggressive relationship with each other. It sparks into something more when he asks her to try his new hot sauce recipe. 22. Our two characters find themselves thrown together and in love after they meet while on vacation in a tropical paradise – only to discover that they live in different countries on separate continents. Can they make it work? 23. He likes her… she likes him… but he’s a total ladies’ man. Can she ever get over this fear and see him as more than a player? 24. They are