A merchant found an old oil lamp. Amazingly, a beautiful genie was summoned as he rubbed it.
“For freeing me, I will grant you one wish,” said the genie.
“I wish I didn’t have to worry about money,” the merchant said.
“So be it,” the genie said, and killed him.
This is the third in a series of stories from King Kool, who has previously contributed multiple other series.
As if he were sleeping, wrapped in swaddling clothes, she held him in her arms. He was warm against her chest, like an angel that had fallen from Heaven above and then returned home, leaving his tiny body behind.
Joshua left behind his footprints on her heart.
Shelia Burket is a wife and mother and the author of the upcoming “Sissy Stringbean” children’s stories. She has published one romance, titled “Longing For December,” which is available on Lulu.com and through the Kindle store. Read more of her writing at wvcoffeechick.blogspot.com.
She explained to me that produce was essential to progress. “Science?” she would say. “Show me science on an empty stomach!”
Farming was her calling. Everything else, she said, didn’t really matter.
A twist of fate brought me, undeserving, through the famine, left alone to carry her message of life.
He fell to his knees and held his hands to his chest, praying earnestly to the Lord.
He sobbed and cursed as they lowered the casket into the ground.
The nurse gently took his arm and led him back inside.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Fredrickson,” she said. “We’ll get you another goldfish.”
Laura Chester is a sixth form student hoping to go to university to study Creative Writing.
It made me mad that I couldn’t hide my sadness from them.
As the sun transformed my smile and let me age prematurely, I couldn’t forgive them for already moving on.
My last thought when my coal eyes hit the ground? “You little rascals will know the feeling soon enough!”
Originally from Germany, Tine moved to California about a year ago. Since then she has become a full-time mom taking care of a four-year-old chatterbox, which makes the fifty-word story a perfect format for her.
The blizzard worsens. I can’t believe I’ve slept. Did not want to wake.
Thinking of my mother, Caroline, and my dear Etta.
I won’t see them or the Terra Nova again.
My mind’s made up.
I am just going outside and may be some time.
Dedicated by the author to Captain Lawrence E.G.Oates, 6th Inniskilling Dragoons.
Died March 1912.
It wasn’t so much the ghastly smile that turned my stomach as the whiskey vapors souring the air in the filthy bedroom.
His eyes were locked in a vacant stare.
What did he see?
“Can we move the body, Detective?”
Eyes riveted to his, I stepped aside as death triumphed.
Cyndi Pauwels writes suspense novels, short stories and essays. Now if only she could sell something…
http://cpatlarge.blogspot.com/
“Sleep. Don’t cry. There is nothing you can do.
“They are gone, never to return. We cannot bring them back, and I am sorry, but you must live with that.”
That’s what she said, but today they died, and I will cry with the rain.
Today I am an orphan.
Matthew Trotter is 21 and lives where the wind carries him. He enjoys writing to pass time and reads as much as he can.
Time passes slowly in a vacuum. Everything is still and silent. You are surrounded by nothingness. It is, unsurprisingly, difficult to breathe.
Boredom, depression, hunger, and asphyxiation vie for power over you, fighting to see which will kill you first.
One should avoid living in a vacuum. Hoovers especially suck.