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Write a story that includes one character reading aloud to another.

Posted in Dialogue on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 29 stories

Looking for Mr. Darcy

Shortlisted for Contest #142 ⭐️

Every Sunday, I’m allowed to read a chapter from Jane Eyre.That’s a special treat for me since every other day it’s another Jane that commandeers the hour. My mother has good days and bad days. She has days where she can’t recognize me and days where she can’t recognize herself. Her life exists in that spot at the tip of your tongue where words and phrases go missing. Her life is made up of sterile smells and muted colors. She’s placed everyday in a chair facing a window that looks out on a man-made lake surrounded by a walking path and nati...

50 likes 59 comments 59
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It’s My Party! 🦏 🪩 🎁

Submitted to Contest #142

Staring at his shoes as they scraped petulantly along the floor towards his seat, Ronnie the Rhino tried his best to remember exactly how he got to this point. Wracking his brains to no avail he sat down and whispered to his colleague to help him remember. Whispering back two wonderful words into his ear, Ronnie’s eyes glazed over as he leapt back with gusto to those heady days before he had to tolerate all this nonsense.————Fifteen months previously, after yet another day of meetings, meetings, meetings, a younger and more care free Ronnie ...

27 likes 4 comments 4
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The Tale of Sir Danielle Longbow

Submitted to Contest #142

Sir Danielle Longbow woke tired, sweaty, and dehydrated. Her smile stretched from ear to ear as she looked at Lupita Smith asleep next to her. Months and an ocean apart had been tortuous. To make up for it they had kissed until they were screaming with ecstasy. Neither had stopped until their bodies betrayed them with unconsciousness.             Kissing the soft brown skin of Lupita’s chest Danielle waited for her lover to wake up. Miss Smith only managed a frown in her sleep and r...

24 likes 18 comments 18
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The Sleeping Beauty Sleep Solution

Submitted to Contest #142

The Sleeping Beauty Sleep SolutionIt’s that fuzzy, foggy time of the day that falls somewhere between awareness and sleep. Not awake, not asleep, somewhere in between. If you catch it just right, words and sounds enter your ears while awake, and are received in the recesses of the mind when asleep. This often results in muddled messaging, a wandering, creative maze of interpretations. It is the stuff dreams are made of.Eight year old Sarah and her mom had been abandoned by Sarah’s father years ago. He left them with nothing. Sarah’s mom, Mar...

21 likes 5 comments 5
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You Are

Submitted to Contest #142

(TW for miscarriage and child death.)Maybe we should play a game. That’s immersive enough, right?A game?Monopoly. Scrabble? Something—I don’t know!Yeah, let’s introduce him to social constructs. He’ll surely understand that.Do you have any better ideas?Well…Oh wow, I love that game!Shut up.Oh! I got it!What—ow! Stop slapping me!What about a guessing game?That could work. Like twenty questions?Right! I’ll go first. Okay, I’m thinking of a person.Um… are they alive?Of course!Are they older than me?I don’t think an age older than you has been r...

16 likes 5 comments 5
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Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.

Submitted to Contest #142

Cold. With arms wrapped tight about my torso, I attempt to hide the shivers. But I ask myself in the silence of the waiting room, am I shivering from the cold or from nerves? Glancing down, I gawk at the gooseflesh. My eye catches the state of my appearance. At this, I ponder my choice of t-shirt. Wrinkled, a coffee stain near the waistline. When did that happen, I wonder. A sweatshirt would have been better. Or perhaps a more professional outfit to cut down this overwhelming sense of stigma?  Questions flood my mind. Am I sweating? W...

16 likes 1 comment 1
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In Transition

Submitted to Contest #142

The plane ride from Florida to Haiti was shorter than I expected. It was forty-five minutes of clear skies, sunshine highs, and windy lows. Since leaving months after my eighth birthday on a humid summer night under the full moon’s light, I have not been back. The last time I looked up at the moon was from the rooftop of my grandfather’s house. I promised myself and Patrice, my cousin who was more of a sister to me than a cousin, to be back. I figured if I believed it hard enough and made promises with every fiber of my being, this change wo...

15 likes 6 comments 6
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The Oath

Submitted to Contest #142

‘You promised.’ Juliet thought her voice wouldn't betray her disappointment, but it did. It came out like a whimper, small and pathetic. She cringed and swiped at her wind swept hair, currently invading her vision, so that she could keep her eyes locked on her betrayer. Romeo looked back at her, across the table, a small smile flickering on the corner of his mouth. He opened his arms out and rested them on the tops of the lounger he sat on, slouching. ‘What’s the harm in one more?’ he drawled, rolling his eyes slowly in a circle. Juliet sh...

15 likes 1 comment 1
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Past Life

Submitted to Contest #142

(Authors note: Remember, Nazis were terrible people. Sadly, there probably weren't any Nazis back then like Johann. Enjoy.) I am an old man, and I sat in my rocking chair as I cleaned the lenses of my glasses. My grandson sat on the rug. "Grandpa Gregor, tell me a story. One with a villain. One with an army. One with a happy ending!" My grandson said. I stopped cleaning my lenses and smiled. "I will tell you a story, and in fact, it's true. There is a villain, several armies. But it depends on the person if you're asking for a happy ...

14 likes 1 comment 1
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Making Amends

Submitted to Contest #142

“Even though they had always been friends, James looked at Jenny as if for the first time,” Carrie read to Hannah. “There was something in her expressive eyes he had not seen before,” she continued. “It was desire!”            “Oh, now to the good part!” Hannah exclaimed, from her hospital bed, her eyes twinkling with mischief.            Carrie scanned down the page of the book she was reading, and her brows rose in concer...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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Rain

Submitted to Contest #142

There’s this photo in the hallway I can’t stop looking at. My mother sat astride a golden horse with a blue ribbon pinned to the bridle, her hair the same yellow as the horses. It’s hung in a wooden frame, the colours faded behind glass.My mother was nineteen years old, the same age as I am now. She’s not smiling yet she seems happy, a serene and satisfied look as if she had all she needed in this world. The horse’s name was Rain and she was ten years old. I was inside my mother still, buried deep, not yet conceived.XXXMy moth...

14 likes 8 comments 8
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Mighty Huntress

Submitted to Contest #142

Witney sat at home while her mama went off to work to wash dishes all night long at a restaurant. Witney would prefer that her mama would stay and play instead of going off to work everyday. So was the way that life went for Witney. Daddy was retired and could play all night if Witney wanted. But there was just something special about hanging out with mama. Mama had to go out and work, because, as mama says, "Soup, doesn't make money or buy itself." Witney liked soup. Witney decided that if she wanted soup, then...

12 likes 0 comments 0
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Student Becomes Master

Submitted to Contest #142

‘All men are Kings in their own home, quarters or buzz… buss?’ Lucas struggled over the word, trying to wrap his tongue around it. ‘Business.’ Said Luthar, not taking his eyes from their fire. He’d read the same thin book a hundred times or more, learning the ways and values of the guild. ‘Never… question a man’s authority whilst in the presence of his subordinates, to do so would… diminish?’ Lucas looked at Luthar who returned a silent nod. ‘His authority. Any issue that you take with his instruction must be addressed privately, man to ...

12 likes 8 comments 8
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The Most Dangerous Books

Submitted to Contest #142

Everybody at the library knew not to turn their backs to the books. The library was designed so that you could never do it, except on purpose. Because the books at Ashpointe library weren’t like the others: they were dangerous.  Even so, Nina still liked them. Even when her fathers scolded her, she ran her fingers along their spines to feel the leathery backs. She wasn’t allowed to read them, and even if she was, she couldn’t. No one in Ashpointe knew how to read. They were librarians, not scholars. About once every month a scholar wo...

11 likes 2 comments 2
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Inheritance

Submitted to Contest #142

The lawyer plopped a folder onto the desk labeled “Moira MacTavish” onto the desk. Moira’s lawyer had made a promise and agreed not to take any peeks at the contents of the folder until she had passed on, which she had done so three days ago. “Your late mother has asked that I be referred to as just, Lawyer,” stated the Lawyer. “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest,” replied Katherine. “My mother always was a bit of an eccentric.” Katherine was Moira’s only daughter and the middle child of her siblings. Though, due to being the only...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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