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Write a story about someone making a gift (chocolate or otherwise) for a loved one.

Posted in Valentine's Day on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 36 stories

Olson’s Sweetheart

Submitted to Contest #133

At the end of the war, we sat on the floor and breathed dust. Not far from us stood a burnt tank with two APCs behind it, also burnt. There was the sound of warplanes still in the air, but we knew no bombs were going to fall anymore, at least not in this round. We felt lucky. The walls near us were punctured with bullets, mostly broken and falling apart. There was no way to see the distant walls because the air was yellow and murky but we could imagine what our city looked like by now. At four-thirty in the morning of Valentine's day, t...

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Glutton for Punishment

Submitted to Contest #133

HIM - PRESENT Even with the barrel of the gun pressed to my left temple, I still crack a smile.  She looks at me, through her thick blonde lashes and a frown creases on her brow. The barrel twists against my head, pinching my flesh. “What’s funny?” she snarls. I shrug. “When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile,” I say, my eyes landing on the velvet red box on the table between us. It is heart shaped, infuriatingly basic, an eye sore even to the purest romantic. Within the folds of the deep red tissue papers sit 16 circular choco...

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She left me with a Bomber Jacket

Submitted to Contest #133

She left me with a bomber jacket and a memory wiped A.I.  She bumped her forehead to mine and stared into my eyes. Her arms wrapped around me, and I could feel the cold wind of the spaceport blow right through me. I shuddered, and she pulled me closer. She pulled the jacket tight and zipped it up till it was right under my chin.  It was an oversized Jacket passed from the Captain of the Merry Charter and then to her; the jacket was a mantel, and it was mine now.   The Merry Charter was behind her at full sail with a hyper...

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DEATH BY CHOCOLATE (VALENTINE DAY SUPRISE)

Submitted to Contest #133

I said to Laila " You don't really mean it. It is really difficult for me to understand what's really going on! We have been going out for nearly eight months. Valentine Day is in two weeks time. You are telling me I can't meet your parents. It does not make any sense at all," She was silent, suddenly said " How many times I told you, we come from different cultures, traditions. I can't tell my parents about our friendship. They won't accept it. As far as they are concerned I am at Oxford University to get a degree not for making friends. Th...

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Love, endurance, and a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

Submitted to Contest #133

-„You will come to Asha’s birthday, won´t you?” Nia asked me a day before her daughter would turn one year old. “You have to take pictures of her first steps!” Asha learned to walk in the shelter for victims of domestic violence where I was working. I went shopping for a birthday present for the toddler: shoes with little pink birds embroidered on them. As I walked home from the mall, I thought about Asha and Nia, and how her daughter´s birthday would also be the last at the shelter. The day after they would have to move out, to an old, rund...

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Zirconium

Submitted to Contest #133

The old woman gasped. A figure stood in the doorway to her hospital room. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought I heard you struggling in your sleep….” “Was I?” The old woman’s lips were paper thin and parched. She reached for the cup on the tray at her bedside, but her fingertips scrapped the side and succeeded only in pushing it out of reach. “Allow me.” The figure in the doorway crossed the room and handed her the cup, turning the straw to the old woman’s lips. She drank deeply then pushed the straw away. “Thank you.” Her breathing was slo...

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The Agony and the Ecstasy of Father Ferro

Submitted to Contest #133

As it turns out, leaving was the easy part. When my not exactly beloved husband confided that he was going to take the considerable funds the Vatican had endowed him with to go and slay the heretics in Protestant Europe (in God’s Holy name, of course), I agreed to follow him into hiding in Italy for a lack of better options for myself.  When I asked him about the undoubtedly elaborated ruse he’d devised to sneak me off the estate, he burst out laughing and took several long and deliberate moments to compose himself. “Are you ser...

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Love Never Dies

Submitted to Contest #133

True love is not over when it is over but gets deeper inside the heart of those who stay alive. Since early morning, it had been raining, making it hard to spend a day in a graveyard. Yet, Ricardo had been sitting now on a bench for an hour, looking at Agatha’s grave and wishing her a happy Valentine’s Day. He’d brought her a box of bittersweet chocolate, a bouquet of roses, a red wine bottle, and a lunch. He was like, ‘Hey, so what! we still have the right to celebrate.’ During the glamorous days when Agatha was alive, the best Valent...

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Fudge and Caramels Caper

Submitted to Contest #133

Sarah woke that morning in a particularly happy mood. It was a Saturday, which meant no work, and it was the day she would be making chocolate fudge and caramels for her beloved grandfather, or Gramps as she affectionately called him. He was in a nursing home and every Valentines Day she took him a huge box of his favorite candies. After taking a shower and getting into her favorite jeans and T-shirt, she got into her car and headed to her Gran’s house to make the legendary sweets. She always looked forward to this special day filled with ...

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We Aren't Doing Anything

Submitted to Contest #133

“We aren’t doing anything for our anniversary.” Steven’s wife straightened out the bottom of her dress, giving her outfit another look in the mirror. Steven still sat in bed, bleary eyes watching Laura give her hair a scrunch with her hands.            “But we could,” he said, though he already knew she would shoot him down again. “We could do something simple. Like a picnic, or we could watch a movie. I could even make you dinner.”          &...

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Sour Love

Submitted to Contest #133

One day, the sun left and never came back. Now it’s dark and cold all the time. I don’t mind the dark because mommy and daddy used to put me in a little room with no light when I annoyed them by bringing too many dead animals inside. Even when I brought alive ones for friendship, mom still complained and hit me with the discipline flower. The discipline flower was a big rose with many little spikes. She said it was a loving way to make me learn because it was a flower and flowers are beautiful. Daddy almost never hit me. He didn’t care. But,...

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The scrapbook

Submitted to Contest #133

I look at the floor around me, what had been my black and white tile kitchen floor earlier that morning had now turned into a sea of 20 years worth of memories. Photos, tickets and notes flooded the space surrounding me. Our anniversary was fast approaching and I had decided to take it upon myself to hand make my present this year, I’d never been all that creative but I wanted to do something special so I was willing to give it a go. This year I’d be putting together a scrapbook for him, hoping to fill each page with our memories, like a sto...

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This is Not a Love Story

Submitted to Contest #133

There is a package sitting on my bed. I find it when I drop my bag on the floor after work, ready to go to the kitchen and wash my hands. Initially, I am a little annoyed. I don’t want a parcel from outside touching my quilt. Barb must have put it there, and I consider talking to her about it, but after the bath towel incident, I don’t want to bother her. On closer inspection the package does not have a shipping label, so maybe Barb wrapped it herself, in which case I don’t mind it being on my bed. Oh. My name is written on the brown pape...

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I’m Going to Live with You Forever

Submitted to Contest #133

Caution: This is not a love story. Well, it kind of is. But mostly, this is a story about losing a life without dying, but never losing hope.Scene IThin fingers shook the crochet needles, one against the other, as the man, thirty going on sixty, looped then pulled at the thick forest-green yarn with pink crochet needles. One was pink anyway. The other was missing some of its coating, giving it a blotchy pinkish-gray appearance as he circled it it deftly around and pulled another loop through. His breath came in bursts of steam that hung in t...

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Where passions lie, ideas blossom

Submitted to Contest #133

Title – Where passions lie, ideas blossom. The floorboards creek as the young Harry Butcher fumbles his way around the bedroom on a dark winter’s morning in the outskirts of Birmingham, November 1860. Harry tried intently not to wake his beloved wife from her restful slumber. He rubs his hands together then brings them to his mouth and blows warm air from deep within his lungs, before striking a match and igniting the candlestick on his bedside table. While shaking out the match, his hand connects with a book, knocking it to the floor with...

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