Discover and read the best of Twitter Threads about #shortstory

Most recents (24)

Robert Louis Stevenson’s #shortstory “The Bottle Imp” was first published (in English) #OTD, 8 Feb 1891, in the New York Herald. It was originally published in #Samoan translation as “O le Fagu Aitu” in the missionary magazine O le sulu Samoa (The Samoan Torch)

A 👿🧵 …
Interesting for all sorts of reasons—a #Hawaiian protagonist, a strong female character—“The Bottle Imp” is wonderfully elegant, & moves like a Swiss watch. It also contains a paradox, which arguably undermines Rational Choice Theory in #economics
📷William Hatherell, 1905
Stevenson’s “The Bottle Imp” has inspired a number of spinoffs, from the 2016 opera THE DEVIL INSIDE, by @stuart_macrae & @louisewelsh00
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#DKBK #NSFW #fluff #shortstory
No quirks AU, simping!Bkg, hot-nerd!Dk, some choking, public frotting


Katsuki has been thirsting after his new next-door neighbor for weeks.
The freckled nerd is just too fucking hot in his dorky superhero t-shirts that stretched over his broad shoulders, and those dumb shorts that showed off way too much of his thick, powerful thighs.
Those freckles of his are so captivating too, and his wild green curls make him look like a tree—a tree that Katsuki is desperate to climb.
Read 67 tweets
Received a very nice #ShortStory from a friend, Ade & felt it was #TooGoodNotToShare ..

A “mouse” was put at the top of a jar filled with grains. He was too happy to find so much food around him. Now he doesn’t need to run around searching for food and can happily lead his life. Image
As he enjoyed the grains, in a few days’ time, he reached the bottom of the jar.

Now he is trapped and he cannot come out of it. He has to solely depend upon someone to put grains in the same jar for him to survive.
He may even not get the grain of his choice and he cannot choose either.

Here are FOUR #InvaluableLessons to learn and remember from this story:

1. Short term pleasures can lead to long-term traps.
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✍📚 After reading 230+ short stories (up to 4k) as a first reader for a national UK comp here's what I learnt about what seems to work and what doesn't in #shortstory writing (just some thoughts not set rules):
1. First words, first lines, first paragraphs matter. I'm not convinced there is time for much scene setting. I love nature but pepper in details to evoke a sense of place rather than start off with a chunk of description. Cut your fanciful beginnings!
2. That said the external environment needs to relate to the story's interiority rather than be a stand alone piece of description. Otherwise it becomes superfluous. I read lots of clever imagery to describe a blue sky that just had nothing to do with the story itself.
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It's a girl's night...
They were going to a hen party. Just as your wife got into the car, she flashed you, to show you she wasn't wearing panties. #medium #shortstory #steamy #romance #erotica #indieauthor #flashfiction #getmeoff Your cock got so hard... 🧵
But she has messed with you before. She's been a good sport about teasing you since you came out with it that you wanted her to cuckold you.
The last party she went to had a stripper. He was hung like a god, his dark skin in contrast to your wifes would have been hot. She took a picture and sent it. She had it in her hand and let you smell it when she came home.
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You know you can....
When you see my video's the ones I post. Does it make you hard? Do you jerk off? I know you're my stepdad, but, do I turn you on? #medium #shortstory #steamy #erotica #indieauthor #flashfiction #getmeoff You know you don't have to just jerk off. 🧵 Image
"You know I'll pose for you. That you can even touch me Daddy," I said wathcing the sweat form on his brow.
"Are you hard right now? Take it out, let me see."
He's conflicted, but obeys.
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He rocked her back, an open mouth kiss. Nothing had ever seemed so sensual to me than this. Watching my wife succumb to the young man's touch. His kiss... #medium #shortstory #steamy #romance #erotica #indieauthor #flashfiction #getmeoff The kiss of her stepson 🧵 Image
We met my son at the restaurant, he slipped into the booth next to her. She blushed as he gave her a full kiss. Then looked at me and smiled.
We had discussed another child, but I'm snipped. We went to doctors, but we needed a donor. My son volunteered.
"It would be part of our family that way," he suggested.

She didn't take much convincing, I thought it was because we had also considered swinging at one time.
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I agreed to free use Friday because I thought it was just a way for my husband and I to fool around. But when he started having guys over on Fridays, I figured he had forgotten about it. #medium #shortstory #steamy #erotica #indieauthor #flashfiction #getmeoff. Or did he? Image
Then one Friday in the pool, David, his coworker untied my top, kissed my neck, and grabbed, well, everything...
"Oh, god, what are you doing?" My skin was on fire wherever he touched.
"Just what your husband said. Using you. Freeuse Friday, right?" Image
"Oh, ok. Yes, please. So, he knows?"
"I didn't ask," he said, and pulled down my bottoms. Then he was inside me. Deep. I loved every inch. The new cock feel, I came within a few strokes.
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We love to hate each other. #medium #shortstory #steamy #romance #erotica #indieauthor #flashfiction #getmeoff but I can't help notice my stepbrother is a hung hunk when we share the bathroom. It was just a matter of time... (Can you imagine? Keep reading) Image
It's been a long time coming. We are too old to share the shower. It's too tempting, both married. Our spouses in the house. It's complicated. But he came in, rock hard, and we kissed. Image
I sank to my knees. I had to taste his cock, but he pulled me back up and turned me around. Getting me ready. Ready to take to only safe hole we have. I want his cum, deep. God this is so good. Image
Read 7 tweets
Happy Halloween! Here's a short creepypasta for the season. The full story can be read across the thread. I'm not much of a writer, but I hope some of you enjoy this a little. #creepypasta #backrooms #AnimeArt #fanart #shortstory #Halloween #animegirl Image
2/10 Image
3/10 Image
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unakaNhamo ngalesi isikhathi ufisa ngabe umhlaba uyavuleka umginye. useka Nhamo is umbheke ngecele- lelo lihlo lithi ngakutshela uthi ungangiceleli umsebenzi-. unakaNhamo weNkosi kuthi afe ngoba ubetshela loba ngubani ongamlalela uthini uelder uzambonela iplan.
ubona ngathi ibandla lonke libheke yena. unakaRudo kazi ukuthi uzakhangela abantu athini. kwazolo kakhona ube sendlini ka elder eyo celela usekaRudo laye mxm. Ngeke adlulwe ngonakaNhamo into ezidubekayo ezingafundanga. UsekaRudo ule degree yena senga sebenza lapha eSaku(😜)
emaofficini amakhulu. laye phezu kwenhloni useyethukile njalo umangele ukuthi awu uelder ubethe uyalungisa. UsekaRudo uyaqala ukubuya echurch, uphethe ngcwadi zakhe zomsebenzi, unakaRudo abethe uzalungisa ithuba lokuthi azinike uElder. Awu! inhloni manje lapho sebona ngathi wonke
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"جو آج تک مجھے دیکھ نہیں سکا، وہ عشق کیا کرے گا مجھ سے."

گھر لوٹنے کے بعد سورج ڈھلنے تک وہ کھڑکی کا پردہ ہٹا کے رکھتی تھی.
اس کی پیدائش سے پہلے پردہ اس کی زندگی کا ایک حصہ تھا، اس کے ارد گرد ایک دیوار، جس کے اندر اس کی دنیا اس قدر حسین تھی کہ باہر کی دنیا کی کمی ہی کبھی محسوس نہیں ہوئی تھی. زندگی تو مگر کبھی ایک سی نہیں رہتی چاہے دیوار کے اِس پار ہو یا اُس پار.
دیوار کے اِس پار رنگ ماند پڑنے لگے تھے. چراغ جیسے لوگ بجھتے چلے گئے. سر پر سے جوانی کی گھٹا چھٹنے لگی اور وجود پر عمر کے ستارے ٹمٹمانے لگے. وہ تنہا رہ گئی تھی.
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#WritingCommunity #shortstory #readers #readingcommunity @ramkid @RoaldDahlFans
This #twory is my humble tribute to Roald Dhal
Driving out of Delhi, Madan noticed traffic was light on the highway. Though the #pandemic was receding, it’s impact was still discernable in many things. Like the almost empty roads. He was driving the new compact SUV 2/n
as their driver had returned to his hometown down south to wait out the pandemic. Madan would have been happier if his wife was not sitting beside him. He scowled at Anita’s side profile. 3/n
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1/n - The Great Gabby - #TreasureHunter of #ElDorado
A #ShortStory on🤩
STATUTORY WARNING – This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living/dead is deliberate & intentional. The story may cause severe pain to a few. Readers are advised due caution b4 reading🥰
A treasure hunter called The Great #Gabby, wid great passion 4 discovering #ElDorado, after years of research claimed 2hv finally cracked d code whch was encrypted in ancient epics of #ElDorado
- He claimed that 25 42’ 0.840”N and 71 42’ 0.007’W r d coordinates of #Eldorado
Gabby showed hw he’d done yrs of tapasya 2 discover d truth & hw scientific he was. He not only gave all data in his favor but also a few whch went against him. Ppl saw dis as a sign of his honesty & lapped up his findings. His name and fame soon spread across the world!
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𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 — 𝙰 𝚃𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.
Thursday. 2:30 am.

As I entered the house, I can sense the cold breeze seeping into the tiny slits of the windows in the living room. It was an exhausting day at work, but somehow I can't manage to sleep. I was thinking that maybe if I ate something, I would feel sleepy after.
I browsed the cupboards and found the last cup of noodles from my stock. "This will do," I told myself. I proceeded to the dining table immediately to eat. To kill the boredom, I tried to write a few haikus.

It's 3:30 am already, and I'm still not sleepy at all. I hate this.
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#TodayinHistory in 1894, Paz Márquez-Benítez, author of the very first #Filipino #shortstory in English, was born in Lucena City, Tayabas (now Quezon Province). She was a women's rights advocate, beauty queen, & a founder of #PH Women's University. THREAD. #WomensHistoryMonth
Born to the couple Gregorio Marquez & Maria Jurado, both educators, the Marquezes were a prominent family in Tayabas. She inherited from them a passion for learning, entering Tayabas High School (now Quezon National High School) at the young age of 9.
Living at the turn of the 20th c. when #PH was ceded to the U.S., Paz was part of 1st gen of Filipinos educated in the ways & inclinations of America. Her Spanish became "ceremonial," Tagalog "utilitarian", w/ English becoming "the language of her heart."
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Once I was at a wedding at one of my ma's relatives' place... I was around seven or eight...

All the women my ma's age were housewives, save this one cousin sister of hers who was working..

(Yeah, we Indians call them cousin brothers and cousin sisters... deal with it)

I didn't know her

Suddenly this beautiful beautiful woman stepped in..She was wearing a white saree with a narrow blue border and chunky turquoise jewellery and a blue bindi

I had never in my life seen someone this beautiful..her thick black curly hair was plaited loosely..
... she had the sweetest voice...

As she stepped in and came towards my ma, she told me this was her cousin and a mashi to me... shy as I felt of this glamourous woman, we soon started talking..and then she moved on to talk to other people at the wedding...
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A short story:

As chair of @nbasblofficial, @OlumideAkpata moved to reform legal education in 🇳🇬 by setting up NBA-SBL clubs in 6 strategic universities nationwide. I was President of @LawsanNational at the time, and the SBL worked hand-in-gloves with us to drive these reforms..
Olu did great exploits, but I knew capacity-building was lifting men is in his DNA when he mentioned how he's more proud of the SBL Clubs of all his major achievements. Today, the clubs are impacting robust commercial law knowledge and bridging the gap btw academia and industry
Since 2018, I've had the privilege of attending all @nbasblofficial Conferences in Abuja and Lagos with a team of delagates from @LawsanNational and 5 students each from the clubs; 100% free and all expense paid in platinum, thanks to @OlumideAkpata
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#ShortStory :

The world famous painting, The Truth Coming Out of the Well, by Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1896.
According to a 19th century legend, the Truth and the Lie meet one day. The Lie says to the Truth: "It's a marvellous day today"! The Truth looks up to the skies and sighs, for the day was really beautiful. They spend a lot of time together, ultimately arriving beside a well.
The Lie tells the Truth: "The water is very nice, let's take a bath together!" The Truth, once again suspicious, tests the water and discovers that it indeed is very nice. They undress and start bathing.
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I received these nine breathtaking short stories with deep meanings and thought of sharing with you all. Hope you like them.

Source: #WhatsApp
1. She was very excited today, as the school was re-opening after a long summer break. Now, once again, she could start selling stationery at the traffic signal to feed her family.
2. She, a renowned artist and a strict mother, often scolded her 6-year-old son for he could never draw a straight line. As he breathed slowly into the ventilator, she begged him to make one more crooked line 3on the ECG.
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Hey guys I wrote a little something and I drew a little something. Hope you guys enjoy it.
14 days of quarantine: Love in the time of Corona
#extendlockdown #COVIDー19 #Covid_19 #mentalhealth #loveinthetimeofcorona
I have come back. into chaos. Just returned from the Holi holidays. First day into work after seven days. And they put me in quarantine. I hang my white coat.

It doesn’t feel the same

#lockdowneffect #Quarantine #spreadloveinthetimeofcorona
2/When I went home there was only one suspected case.

The Pandemic was mostly in Italy and US.

We were laughing how HOD have the most to fear before the holiday

Older age group.

#covid19nfld #LoveInTheTimeOfCorona
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#WritingCommunity #shortstory #RemembranceDay2019
The man shook his tin at me and said "Care to buy a poppy?"
I went in my pockets and said "Sorry, I've nothing to give."
He frowned at me and said "They died for your freedom, you know."
"What freedom is that?" I ask.
#WritingCommunity #shortstory #RemembranceDay2019
"Is it the freedom to choose what cheap, unhealthy food I shorten my lifespan with? Maybe the freedom to decide which companies I allow to bully me into debt and poverty?"
#WritingCommunity #shortstory #RemembranceDay2019
"I've got it" I say. "It's the freedom to decide which landlord will issue me an eviction notice. Maybe then I'll be truly free; free to decide which doorway to cry myself to sleep under."
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Trying something different; a story in a thread.
* * *

I heard them bring her in, a cell down the corridor from mine.
Sarted the same way, noise of carriage wheels on cobbles, clanging of locks, creaking of doors chains dragging on stone, protests of the accused.
This time, raised voices drifted down the corridor. The watch commander's deep, booming tones drowned out the voices of the woman's captors.
"...the hell am I supposed to put her? She needs an apothecary, not a prison!"
"...yeah we do, for DRUNKS! Going to take more than a nights sleep to cure that! Look how much she's shivering!"
"...oh really? How much you going to give me of that? Nope, didn't think so!"
Rest of the discussion was quiet, a negotiation of sorts.
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Kayode chased me out of our home.

Three years of marriage with two beautiful daughters to show for it, and he chased me.

Chased me like a thief that I was not, chased me like an unfaithful wife that I was not, he chased me..

out and brought in another woman.

Now barely two years after, he is here, on his knees, before my family and our kids, begging for me to take him back.

As I stared at him in his burgundy long sleeved kafan and polished black shoes, pleading on his knees before my father and
mother,with nothing but emptiness in my heart,the memories of the pain he put me through,the embarrassment,the heart break, the agony flowed back into my head,fresh as if it were yesterday..

"Wumni please forgive me,” he said, turning towards me, “Please forgive and forget..”
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