/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.3726770]

short short stories thread?

Only rules is that it must be only 1 post long. Post yours/others' and we'll all give it a readin!

[Charles Crumb !hxGgtPv0f. No.3726785]

Watching thread, ready to give awful harsh non-constructive criticism.

[Anonymous No.3726794]

Let's all be friendly here pls

[Anonymous No.3726806]

fuck yer rules
(1/2)

The Man in the Store

It rained steadily outside. Thick, vertical drops plummeted down and collided against the asphalt. Running for shelter, I ducked beneath the grey tarpaulin canvas that hovered over the door to my neighborhood grocery, and made my way through the small crowd of umbrella-less shoppers waiting for the rain to subside.

Before leaving my flat, I had scribbled down a list of essentials I needed to pick up, but in my haste I left the list at home. Bread, yogurt, and some other stuff that did not interest me were certainly not the reason I was there this morning. In fact, I probably wouldn’t even be bothered to get these things if I had no other food at home. For that matter, I hadn’t checked, but I was pretty sure that I indeed did not have any other food at home. No, I had run out of scotch, and last night my guests—who were still asleep in the living room—had drunk the case of beer I had stored. However, it was barely past nine o’clock, and I usually don’t lay into the beer till late in the afternoon; the primary reason for this visit is the scotch which I like to have before my morning coffee, and which is also the only thing as of late that picks me up after vomiting. I also needed cigarettes and peanuts.

[Anonymous No.3726813]

>>3726806
(2/2)

With the rain and so many things on my mind distracting me, I completely forgot myself and my eyes started to wander to whatever insignificance was occurring at the moment. Gradually they found themselves fixed on one middle-aged gentleman with a vacant expression on his face, paying for his groceries at the counter. I am at a loss to remember his distinct features; nonetheless, he was pretty average in all respects.

In my absent-mindedness, I let my gaze linger a moment too long. He saw me see him and a brief flash of involuntary distress showed on his face before composing itself into a sort-of spiteful, resolute blankness. Apologetically, I averted my stare to the magazine display above his head as if that had been my object of focus all along, but the damage was done. He gathered his things angrily and marched out into the rain. I collected my peanuts.

[Scrotie McBoogerballs !!H5w/bzpp+lt No.3726897]

>>3726806
>>3726813
lol, I love the bit about the alcohol. It sounds like me going to the store because "I'm out of lunch meat" and buying lunch meat, M&M's, Cool Ranch Family Sized Doritos, and one Latte Double Mocha Frappe from the in house Starbucks.

Also, I think everyone will be able to relate to the caught staring at an uninteresting person bit. My story to follow. It's actually a rambling that I just wrote ten minutes ago, but you owe me one review in return (especially because you posted first ITT)

[Scrotie McBoogerballs !!H5w/bzpp+lt No.3726909]

[(1/2) I was 300 characters over, sheesh]

There are three types of people in high school. Everyone of them believes for the sake of their own sanity that they are part of the middle group.

The top level views the school's bullies as those fat smelly kids that won't you you alone at lunch. They always come over and ruin the conversation you're trying to have with your group of friends. They usually steal someone's seat at the lunch table you sit at, a seat that is always reserved and has been sat in by an assigned assortment of characters since the third grade. This fuckin' bully comes along and ruins a normally pleasant lunch with friends. The bully also got in a fight with your friend Jim for no reason at all. Jim said that he was just walking down the hallway doing nothing and the bully sneaked up behind him and kicked him to the ground. "Jim is such a nice guy. I don't know how anyone could kick Jim and get away with it. I'm glad Jim sent the Bully to the hospital after that." The top level class only has a few members which correctly witness their level of society. They are the fairfest of this level, rising beyond merely the top level, but the top of the top level.

[Scrotie McBoogerballs !!H5w/bzpp+lt No.3726912]

(2/2)

There's also the middle level. They are filled with washed up top level kids from before puberty or lower level kids that have been adopted into the middle level. Surprisingly, those transfered from the top level to the middle almost always notice this shift in status while those raised from the lowest level to the middle notice the change much less often. There are those which have been stuck in the middle since day one, but these people are often the boring wretches of society. Despite being actual spitting image of what so many people considered their lives to be like, theirs was the most miserable of fates. They are more like shells of human a human spirit than the republican party is. They would never be demoted from their beginning middle platform by some scandalas act or heart breaking tradgedy. They could never be promoted by doign great acts or having great heart. They had always and would always be what they were born as: normal.

The lowest class is considered by many of their own type to be an odd flavor. It is a place of torment, as their is no doubt to them as to what level they reside on. It's fate cruel ruse that the sobriety of mind comes only to those in the deepest depths of pain.

[Anonymous No.3726923]

My parents always used to make me go to bed early. I never knew why. All the kids at school went to bed at like 8 or 9 o’ clock. My parents would be yelling at me to go to bed by 6. If I ever tried to refuse them, they would go berserk. My dad even picked me up once when I was being particularly resistant, took me to my room, threw me on my bed and locked the door. Most of those nights I just lay down until late at night. They never came in to check if I was sleeping. The strange thing was, I didn’t even need that much sleep, I would end up dozing off by midnight.

So when my friend Jeremy offered me to go over to his house for a sleepover on the first day of spring break, I was feeling torn. Would my parents be that mad if I just went? I knew the answer already. They never let me go for sleepovers, and I always had to be back from friends houses early. My friends would always be surprised at my leaving so early. “It’s my parents” I would tell them. “They’re crazy.” All my friends agreed. But because it was the first day of spring break, and I was feeling rebellious, I agreed to go.

Jeremy’s parents would have not let me stay for a sleepover. They knew how my parents felt about that, although they didn’t understand their reasoning. So Jeremy told his dad that we were going to the river to go fishing. He agreed, but told us to be back by sunfall. We didn’t go to the river, and we didn’t go fishing. Jeremy, always a troublemaker, had assured me this was a good idea. We ended up sneaking into the garage and pulling out the spare mattress, and a few blankets. I was a bit cynical about the whole thing by now.

“Where are we going to go?” I said

“We’re going to Rob’s house... their parents don’t know yours. They won’t mind”

So Jeremy led the way to Rob’s house. I followed. I knew Rob. He was a very quiet kid. He never really spoke, and always wore clothes that looked a bit old and dirty

>One I just started, not done yet lol

[Anonymous No.3726940]

>>3726909
>>3726912

interesting idea... I'm not sure I understood it lol

[Anonymous No.3726961]

>>3726912
>>3726909

Nice

[[h]ombre No.3726968]

"At least tell me I'm pretty," I said, rolling off him.

"You're pretty," he said, in between the frustrated clicks of a dead lighter. A flash lit up the filthy room for an instant, and he continued, "Very pretty." In that instant I saw the boy under his acrid, flaccid cloud of smoke, and that's when I came up with the nickname, "Crystal Dick."

***

I first saw Crystal Dick (CD, as a second-level nickname) on the other side of the thick plexiglass wall that divides the luggage recovery area from the let's-see-how-much-money-you-will-spend-due-to-tedium room. CD himself was unmistakable: even though we had only briefly talked on the phone before meeting, his voice supplied all the details I needed, that humming slurr, that instinctive shift to a higher pitch and the end of every sentence, the way words seemed to hurt him as they crawled out of his throat all coalesced perfectly into the form of the shaggy burnout nodding off, barely holding up a slightly crumpled sheet of paper with "CC" scrabbled on it. Our first interaction was me waking him up with a poke in the shoulder; he smelled of wet tobacco and charred meat.

***

“Your delivery isn’t very convincing.”

He rolled back to face me, deftly keeping his cigarette outside the bed, and buried his face on one side of my neck, and I could feel his nose brush on my cheek as he made his way to my ear, then the warm breath as he inhaled, the very-deliberate but very necessary pause before whispering, in a tone I didn’t imagine he could ever muster up.

“You really are beautiful.”

And as soon as he said it the aura of intimacy turned off, the cigarette now somehow perpendicularly upright in between his lips like he failed to be on mine, an orange star midst the thin clouds in the night-sky of his hermit room, and then I realized why Rose had chosen the boy as her kept lover: he could fake a man better than most men were at being men. What a pity his cock was out of order.

[Anonymous No.3726978]

The man died. And yet, he went to Heaven, even though committed nothing but wrongs.
He went and knocked on Heaven's door
It opened with a creak and he paced himself through, looking at the most beautiful angel human eyes have never seen before.
He asked for its name and it didn't answer, instead signaling him to go through an arc, its engravings surpassing the beauty of all he had ever seen before.
He met God and asked him why.
The answer he got shocked him to his very core.
"In the end you repented from your sins, and so i am telling to you this: You will go back on Earth, and live again, and you might have another chance at eternal bliss."


100/100

[Anonymous No.3726985]

There should be a published collection of good green text short stories. It could be the format of our generation.

>younger cousins are visiting
>they say they're interested in guns
>I say we can shoot the paintball gun in the backyard right this moment if they want
>"We don't need any paintball masks since we'll just be target shooting"
>plan to take them to the range later if they follow gun safety rules well
>Later in the backyard
>gas up gun
>"Treat every weapon as if it looked loaded with all that bling, never point the weapon at anything you do not intend to bruise, keep your finger off the trigger until ready to murder"
>dope the scope for them and then the weapon was theirs
>Thing #1 points paintball gun at Thing #2's face.
>I reached forward
>Thing #1 shoots warning shots at Thing #2's feet
>My hand to moving toward the gun
>Thing #2 terrors off running serpentine style
>My hand has reached near light speed velocity
>Thing #1 starts taking hip shots at him Al Capone style
>My fingers nails grace the aluminum barrel

>Both cousins are confused why I won't ever show them my collection
>mfw

[Anonymous No.3727002]

She was snoring again, and this time the shuddering of her nostrils were not fake. There would be no awakening this time, no perchance intervention. He peeled the bedclothes back, fingers trembling and threatening to send ripples of incriminating fear onto her bosom. Her hair fell softly to one side and hung lamely over the bedside. The sight of her bare navel tempered his courage, and he drove on. Unseaming her from just beside her belly button, he revealed her internal organs to the air for the first time. The scent both aroused and nauseated, and the sight of the bodily fluids bubbling and coagulating in the air accentuated this. Still, he had a dream to fulfill. He squatted over this new orifice, pleased to be actualizing his desires. She was oblivious to both her mutilation and his naked scrotum hanging just a foot above her, still in the throes of an endless sleep. Finally he began. Squelching first, the feces came sliding down his small intestine. It reached his rectum after a minute’s suspense, and he felt his arousal heighten. At last his child slid out. A perfect, 10 inch turd slid into the hole in her stomach and sat cosily between what looked to be two vital organs wrapped around each other. He patted it lovingly into place, as both bile and blood bathed his creation, and he saw some of the feces break off in the surrounding blood and be carried off into the unknown frontiers of her body. Soon he would be all over her. He swallowed the saliva that had built up in his mouth, and sutured the wound up. Sweeping the hair back under her pillow, he left her there in the night, unknowingly tampered.

The next morning she arrived at the breakfast table. “I feel a most unusual sickness in my abdomen, father,” she said.

[Anonymous No.3727025]

>Post one, review one

[[h]ombre No.3727033]

I liked it. sounds more like a song than a poem/story though.

[[h]ombre No.3727038]

>>3727033
i meant >>3726978

[[h]ombre No.3727066]

bump i need a critique or something

[Anonymous No.3727070]

>>3726968

I thought it was nice to read and had beautiful images, but I didn't really understand the message or what it was saying

PS Are you a female (lol cant say that without sounding weird)

[[h]ombre No.3727078]

>>3727070
Well, it's not the whole story, it's just a fragment, so it's to be expected. No, I'm not a girl, but I'm trying to break out of my comfort zones, so I'm writing as a horny girl as opposed to my low-libido male self.

[[h]ombre No.3727163]

read my story lit

[Anonymous No.3727222]

I stared - for a long while, I felt, though perhaps it wasn't more than a few minutes - at the sun, shrinking slowly beneath the horizon, showering the vast landscape that lay in front of me in yellow, then orange, then an odd sort of magenta, before finally disappearing beneath that incredibly long line that separates the earth from the heavens, leaving nothing but the soft, calming glow of the night sky.

I waited for a moment, the air turning cold and nipping at my neck, resting on the cool grass. It all seemed so surreal, so majestic. And yet, at the same time there was an eeriness about the scenery. I knew, with a sort of dread gnawing at the back of my mind, that it was all false. I rubbed my hands frustratingly through the grass, feeling the damp blades sift through my fingers but not believing it; I tore at the hard earth with a primal doubt, an inner disbelief chewing at me, magnifying in its intensity, forcing me to question and hesitate.

I stood up suddenly, my vision foggy with the beginning of tears. I focused my emotions into my movements, slogging over to the nearby tree. I kicked at it, hit it with my hands, felt the bark tear my knuckles and bruise my fists. I shouted with rage, then desperation, then despair. I hugged the tree, trying to support myself, but failed. I sank slowly to the ground, tears running down my cheeks. Why couldn't I believe? Why wouldn't I let myself?

With a pathetic sob, I deactivated the virtual reality, knocking the helmet off my head. I rolled off the immobilization bed and crawled groggily toward the window. Peering out into the ash-ridden sky, I let out a long sigh.

This was what should have been false. This was what I didn't want to believe.

[[h]ombre No.3727248]

>>3727222
you don't need the "sort of" in odd sort of magenta. ditch the incredibly and maybe the long before line, and maybe change that to plane. you might want to fuse soft and calming into soothing.


"it all seemed" is weak, go with was. the next sentence is kinda awkward. from them on it turns really good. good job anon.


DO ME FOR GODS SAKE I'M DYING OF ATTENTION WITHDRAWAL

[Anonymous No.3727253]

>>3727248
I felt kind of the same as the other person said about your story, it was pretty but yeah i didn't really understand what was going on? He was just her boyfriend, right?

[[h]ombre No.3727257]

>>3727253
not really, but that's what I get for posting such an abridged version, the narrative becomes unintelligible.

[[h]ombre No.3727261]

>>3727253
what did you think of the prose though?

[Anonymous No.3727311]

>>3726923

anyone wanna critique mine? Is it engaging? It's meant to be a creepypasta lol

[Anonymous No.3727358]

>>3727261

Your prose gives off a really cool vibe... it reminds me of the 40's or something

I don't really understand the "second level nickname", well I do, but it was sort of an awkward way to say it for me. Maybe (CD for short) if that's not too cliche. I'm also not sure what crystal dick means lol, but maybe that's supposed to be found out later. I like the desctiption of a shaggy burnout... especially "instinctive shift to a higher pitch" thing, if you were following that "teach the reader 3 new things in every short story" you succeeded with that, very observant.

I sort of understand what's happening now I think, a horny lady is calling up this really would be unappealing guy for some reason..

"cigarette now somehow perpendicularly upright in between his lips like he failed to be on mine," lol very clever, after reading a few times.

"Rose had chosen the boy as her kept lover" So he's with someone else and this girl is cheating?

"What a pity his cock was out of order" seems like this shows how shallow she is?