The "Rich" Orphan

Life was fine with millions of dollars. A manor to live in and the parents who can get you whatever you wanted. Then came the day - the darkest of all nights. What's the worst thing that could happen for a kid, like seeing his parents getting shot and dying in front of his own eyes. The terrified kid couldn't do anything but to see his parent's soul leaving slowly. From then on,  life wasn't same for him l . All those luxuries seemed to be pointless . Had he been a kid of the streets, he would have known the struggle of life but for the kid born with the platinum spoon, this phase was crucifying. That changed him completely later on. 

That incident was haunting constantly as terrible nightmares. Not a single day he slept with peace as he was accompanied by the guilt that his fear for bats only brought them out of the theater and things followed. Had he been brave enough to see the play for some more time, things wouldn't have been difficult for him. But life isn't fair ain't it?.  He then decided to chase out the fear of his. Made it as an armour around him. Begin to share his dread to those who exploit the helpless. He was becoming someone else in fact something else. He defined well his goals and drew a careful line that separated him from others. The ultimate aim was to keep the nights calm for everyone else, as he doesn't want anymore to suffer the darkest of nights and ended up becoming the DARK KNIGHT - a watchful protector from a pity "Rich" Orphan.  

Life would be mean to us, sometimes. It would surprise us with tests that we were totally unprepared for. In those times, we fall deep down, but only to learn to pick ourselves up. That fall and rise would shape us up. Whenever life put us down don't ever hesitate to rise up.

- K Baghubali Abishek 

( 19 / 02 / 2020 ) 

#happybirthday #BruceWayne

𝗗𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗕𝘆 𝗦𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗯𝗯𝗹𝗲

It's a hot day and I hate my wife.

     We're playing Scrabble. That's how bad it is. I'm 42 years old, it's a blistering hot Sunday afternoon and all I can think of to do with my life is to play Scrabble.

     I should be out, doing exercise, spending money, meeting people. I don't think I've spoken to anyone except my wife since Thursday morning. On Thursday morning I spoke to the milkman.

     My letters are crap.

     I play, appropriately, BEGIN. With the N on the little pink star. Twenty-two points.

     I watch my wife's smug expression as she rearranges her letters. Clack, clack, clack. I hate her. If she wasn't around, I'd be doing something interesting right now. I'd be climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. I'd be starring in the latest Hollywood blockbuster. I'd be sailing the Vendee Globe on a 60-foot clipper called the New Horizons - I don't know, but I'd be doing something.

     She plays JINXED, with the J on a double-letter score. 30 points. She's beating me already. Maybe I should kill her.

     If only I had a D, then I could play MURDER. That would be a sign. That would be permission.

     I start chewing on my U. It's a bad habit, I know. All the letters are frayed. I play WARMER for 22 points, mainly so I can keep chewing on my U.

     As I'm picking new letters from the bag, I find myself thinking - the letters will tell me what to do. If they spell out KILL, or STAB, or her name, or anything, I'll do it right now. I'll finish her off.

     My rack spells MIHZPA. Plus the U in my mouth. Damn.

     The heat of the sun is pushing at me through the window. I can hear buzzing insects outside. I hope they're not bees. My cousin Harold swallowed a bee when he was nine, his throat swelled up and he died. I hope that if they are bees, they fly into my wife's throat. 

     She plays SWEATIER, using all her letters. 24 points plus a 50 point bonus. If it wasn't too hot to move I would strangle her right now.

     I am getting sweatier. It needs to rain, to clear the air. As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I find a good word. HUMID on a double-word score, using the D of JINXED. The U makes a little splash of saliva when I put it down. Another 22 points. I hope she has lousy letters.

     She tells me she has lousy letters. For some reason, I hate her more.

     She plays FAN, with the F on a double-letter, and gets up to fill the kettle and turn on the air conditioning.

     It's the hottest day for ten years and my wife is turning on the kettle. This is why I hate my wife. I play ZAPS, with the Z doubled, and she gets a static shock off the air conditioning unit. I find this remarkably satisfying.

     She sits back down with a heavy sigh and starts fiddling with her letters again. Clack clack. Clack clack. I feel a terrible rage build up inside me. Some inner poison slowly spreading through my limbs, and when it gets to my fingertips I am going to jump out of my chair, spilling the Scrabble tiles over the floor, and I am going to start hitting her again and again and again.

     The rage gets to my fingertips and passes. My heart is beating. I'm sweating. I think my face actually twitches. Then I sigh, deeply, and sit back into my chair. The kettle starts whistling. As the whistle builds it makes me feel hotter.

     She plays READY on a double-word for 18 points, then goes to pour herself a cup of tea. No I do not want one.

     I steal a blank tile from the letter bag when she's not looking, and throw back a V from my rack. She gives me a suspicious look. She sits back down with her cup of tea, making a cup-ring on the table, as I play an 8-letter word: CHEATING, using the A of READY. 64 points, including the 50-point bonus, which means I'm beating her now.

She asks me if I cheated.

     I really, really hate her.

     She plays IGNORE on the triple-word for 21 points. The score is 153 to her, 155 to me.

     The steam rising from her cup of tea makes me feel hotter. I try to make murderous words with the letters on my rack, but the best I can do is SLEEP.

     My wife sleeps all the time. She slept through an argument our next-door neighbours had that resulted in a broken door, a smashed TV and a Teletubby Lala doll with all the stuffing coming out. And then she bitched at me for being moody the next day from lack of sleep.

     If only there was some way for me to get rid of her.

     I spot a chance to use all my letters. EXPLODES, using the X of JINXED. 72 points. That'll show her.

     As I put the last letter down, there is a deafening bang and the air conditioning unit fails.

     My heart is racing, but not from the shock of the bang. I don't believe it - but it can't be a coincidence. The letters made it happen. I played the word EXPLODES, and it happened - the air conditioning unit exploded. And before, I played the word CHEATING when I cheated. And ZAP when my wife got the electric shock. The words are coming true. The letters are choosing their future. The whole game is - JINXED.

     My wife plays SIGN, with the N on a triple-letter, for 10 points.

     I have to test this.

     I have to play something and see if it happens. Something unlikely, to prove that the letters are making it happen. My rack is ABQYFWE. That doesn't leave me with a lot of options. I start frantically chewing on the B.

     I play FLY, using the L of EXPLODES. I sit back in my chair and close my eyes, waiting for the sensation of rising up from my chair. Waiting to fly.

     Stupid. I open my eyes, and there's a fly. An insect, buzzing around above the Scrabble board, surfing the thermals from the tepid cup of tea. That proves nothing. The fly could have been there anyway.

     I need to play something unambiguous. Something that cannot be misinterpreted. Something absolute and final. Something terminal. Something murderous.

     My wife plays CAUTION, using a blank tile for the N. 18 points.

     My rack is AQWEUK, plus the B in my mouth. I am awed by the power of the letters, and frustrated that I cannot wield it. Maybe I should cheat again, and pick out the letters I need to spell SLASH or SLAY.

     Then it hits me. The perfect word. A powerful, dangerous, terrible word.

     I play QUAKE for 19 points.

     I wonder if the strength of the quake will be proportionate to how many points it scored. I can feel the trembling energy of potential in my veins. I am commanding fate. I am manipulating destiny.

     My wife plays DEATH for 34 points, just as the room starts to shake.

     I gasp with surprise and vindication - and the B that I was chewing on gets lodged in my throat. I try to cough. My face goes red, then blue. My throat swells. I draw blood clawing at my neck. The earthquake builds to a climax.

     I fall to the floor. My wife just sits there, watching.

_End_

Author: Charlie Fish

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𝙍𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙚𝙨

Late autumn weather was always unpredictable; each day was a roll of the dice as to whether it would be a warm echo of the summer, or instead bring the chill of winter howling hungrily down through the streets. That day, in particular, the sky was clear and it had all the visual aspects of a perfect midsummer day, but there was a strong wind battering anyone in its path that betrayed the true nature of the season. Jenny braced herself against the cold as she ventured down the quiet street on her way home. There was a quiet calm hanging in the air; there were no sounds of vehicles, no sign of anyone else wandering the village, not even the trill of a solitary bird. As Jenny turned the corner that led down towards the old church, she saw it; the roadside shoe.

     Most people would see that shoe and assume a drunken partygoer had forgotten it somehow, or that perhaps even a car had driven past and it had possibly fallen from the window unknowingly. But Jenny knew better. Whenever she saw an inexplicably discarded item alongside roads, paths or anywhere they shouldn't be, she knew. Somewhere in between lay in that spot; an unseen hole that fed into the other world and lay in wait like a predatory trap awaiting its unsuspecting prey. The portal-like occurrences were random, they appeared and disappeared without any reason or warning. Jenny didn't believe that any of the beings that used them had any control over them. They just took advantage of them.

     Jenny moved closer to the shoe but kept a safe distance. She moved slightly from side to side, swaying on the spot until she saw the tell-tale faint shimmer hanging in the air that was normally invisible to the human eye. For some reason, though Jenny had never figured out why, she had always been able to spot these strange veils of mist for as long as she could remember.

     The first creature she had seen had been enough to scare her into a lifetime of caution around the anomalies. Spirits, demons, yokai; they went by many names, but not a single one of them was trustworthy. Many were happy to simply cause mischief when they visited the human world, but some of the more dangerous creatures tore people from the world with such a ferocity that sometimes an item of their clothing was left behind. Jenny dreaded to consider what horrible fate befell them on the other side of that mysterious window.

     The hairs rose on Jenny's neck, a strange unsettling sensation that caused her to shudder all over. The unmistakable feeling of someone watching her, or more accurately something was watching her. Jenny took a wary step away from the shimmering air before her. A low throaty chuckle whispered out from the space in front of her, but the speaker remained hidden.

     "Little girl, little girl," the raspy voice spoke, "Come with me."

     "No, thank you," Jenny responded flatly.

     Out of the flickering air, a face leaned out. It had dark red skin and its face was twisted into a ghastly grin that bordered on the edge of being a grimace. The large white eyes with their tiny pupils were unblinking; leaving Jenny to wonder if the macabre face was, in fact, a mask that hid the true identity of its wearer. Horns protruded from a swathe of white tangled hair that fell around its face in a wild manner. The creature sucked its teeth before flicking its tongue out and licking its thin lips slowly.

     "What if I said please?" the voice groaned sarcastically, though its mouth was unmoving as the words reached Jenny's ears.

     "No," Jenny said even more defiantly.

     "Such a pity," the creature sighed as it slid back into the portal and out of view.

     Jenny could still feel its presence there, unseen but unmistakably still there. Like a spider waiting for the fly. She knew that if she stupidly ventured too close, it would undoubtedly strike and she would find herself on the other side. Though she often wondered what the other world was like, Jenny didn't want to find out first hand. Giving the dangerous patch of air a wide berth, Jenny hurried past and continued on her way.

     The sky was beginning to darken as Jenny rushed home. She was desperate to be safely inside before dusk fell. But first, she had to face another hurdle, the front door. She unlocked it with bated breath before quickly opening it and jumping backward. She studied the air in the doorway, once satisfied it was as it should be, she passed the threshold and closed the door behind her. Jenny had learned that anything that counted as an "in-between" could also spawn a passage to the other world, though these gateways were smaller and seldom saw the more dangerous creatures. Normally it was mischievous gremlin-like spirits that came through these gaps between worlds, the types that hid your belongings, switched your appliances on and off without warning, or plagued you with insomnia or nightmares during the night.

     Jenny went to the window and peered out from behind the curtain at the greying world before her. Dusk acted as a filter over the human world, the eerie lighting gave way to ominous shapes and shadows as the whole world became an in-between for a short time. Unlike the portals that hung in the air or hid in doorways, dusk and dawn were distinctively different. The creatures that came during these times almost seemed oblivious to the humans around them. They could be large hulking creatures that slowly moved through the streets, but they didn't react to anything around them and humans were still oblivious of them. It was almost as if for those moments in time, the two worlds overlapped and you could see a mixture of the two joined together, but they remained separated enough as to not disturb the other. Even still, Jenny didn't like to be out during those times of the day. She didn't want to risk that her theory was incorrect and tempt fate by venturing amongst the unnatural shades.

     As she was just about to turn away from her vigil of the strange world, something caught her eye; flash of red and white moving ever closer. A chill ran down her back like a cold finger tracing every bone in her spine. The demonic-looking creature had followed her home. She ducked out of sight, peering around the thick drapes to see the stranger as it approached. Hiding was of no use. She could see it lifting its face to the air, following her scent. It was tall, its muscly body seemed strangely out of proportion, it had large thick arms with claw-like fingers, but it's even thicker legs were shorter, giving it an ape-like stance. It wore dark leathers and fur, but the red skin that wasn't covered by clothing was adorned with a myriad of silvery scars. The demon stopped just shy of her front door, cocked its head like a dog would do when it didn't understand something, before turning its unblinking gaze on her hiding spot.

     "Little girl, little girl," it called out, its voice hissing through the air, "Let me come in."

     Jenny dropped down out of sight, though she knew it was too late. The creature knew she was there. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she considered her options. Never had she been followed home by one of them. What could she do? Her mind was racing to think of a solution.

"Little girl, little girl," the voice came, more impatiently this time, "Let me come in."

     Jenny looked around in a panic, wondering what she could do to rid herself of her unwelcome visitor. As her eyes caught sight of something in the hallway, a plan rapidly began to form in her mind and she sprang into action. The sound of claws grating against the front of her door resounded loudly as the demon moved ever closer to its prey.

     "Let me in…" it hissed loudly, its voice rattling through the letterbox.

     Jenny dragged a chair in front of the door to set her trap and she prayed that it would be successful as she answered the beast at the door, "I'm coming!"

     Checking that everything was in place, Jenny took a deep breath before she opened the front door. She locked eyes with the ghastly creature as it stood in the doorway, unsure what to do as it faced the image placed before it. In the large mirror that Jenny had borrowed from the wall and propped against the chair, the demon could see itself and also see the small girl as she hid behind the door. In the reflection, they stared each other down. It tilted its head once more as it contemplated this new development. Jenny saw her face pale in the mirror; the otherworldly creature was still there, mere inches from where she stood.

     Pulling its shoulders inwards to fit between the small frame of the doorway, the demon took a step forward into the house. Jenny didn't dare take her eyes from the mirror as she watched it move closer, but surprisingly she didn't see its large form in her peripheral vision. In the mirror, the demon was hesitating. It could have been reaching for her, it was so close, but for some reason, it wasn't. Jenny couldn't help herself, curiosity had gotten the better of her and she turned to view the demon… but nothing was there. The doorway was empty. She turned back to the mirror; there it was, stood exactly where she had expected it to be. Jenny had decided to take advantage of the "in-between" and the mirror, both an image of what was real and what was not, had worked well. Before the demon could realize it had stepped into a trap, Jenny sprang forward and knocked the mirror to the floor, smashing it into a thousand pieces that scattered across the hardwood flooring like spilled sugar grains.

     With her homemade gateway to the other world now destroyed, Jenny quickly closed her front door and locked it behind her. She retrieved her dustpan and brush from the kitchen and knelt to begin clearing up the mess she had made. The small pieces scraped against the floor as she brushed them into the pan. For a split second, Jenny thought she saw a flash of red in the sparkle of a particularly large shard, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. She stared at the rest of the broken mirror for a while longer, but saw nothing more and so continued to clean it away.

     THE END.

Author: Meg Pelliccio

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫:

by Jack Delany

She breezed into my office one cold September morning. I'd been enjoying a hot cup of Starbuck's finest and surfing the web for local news. The famous lexical semanticist Professor Edgar Nettleston had been found dead, a gunshot wound to the head. The police verdict was suicide.

     She held out an elegant hand as she floated towards me and I glimpsed a wedding band with a stone the size of a peanut M&M.

     "I'm Edith Nettleston."

     "Sorry about the old man."

     "I'm not. He loved me, but he loved words more. I'll be brief. My husband was working on a paper that will rock the very foundation of lexical semantics. It's worth a fortune in lecture tours, but nobody can find it. I believe his suicide note is a clue to its whereabouts."

     She removed a scrap of paper from her blouse.

     "edith. i'm not going to whine, i've had a good life. i've found wealth and happiness as a teacher, a seller of knowledge. but i find myself depressed beyond hope ... and so i'm choosing the hour and manner of my own demise. i have treated you badly. i demanded you dyed your brown curls blonde. i thought i could buy you when i should have won your love. i called you a witch. i'd complain: where's the woman i married? i said you ate too much. if i wanted change, i could have used a carrot rather than a stick. you probably wanted to wring my neck. forgive me. farewell."

     "It's all written in lower case. My husband was a stickler for correct grammar. I refuse to believe it doesn't mean something."

     "Mrs. Nettleston, I think I can help you. There's a couple of odd things about this letter. Firstly, as you say, it's written entirely in lower case. Mr. Nettleston was a world-renowned lexical semanticist, not a teenager texting his BFFs."

     "Secondly, it has a more than usual number of homophones, words where there is another word with the same sound but different spelling and meaning. When dealing with a lexical semanticist, that's surely no accident."

     "If we read those homophones in order, we have: whine, seller, hour, manner. And translating to their homophones: Wine cellar our manor."

     Several hours later, we arrived at the Nettlestons' country house and immediately headed for the basement. A flip of a light switch revealed tunnels filled with rows of dark bottles.

     "Where is it? It would take years to search this place."

     "Not so fast, Mrs. Nettleston. First I have to ask you something: your wedding ring diamond, how large is it?

     "It's eight carats. Edgar wouldn't stop talking about it."

     "That's what I feared." I pulled out my trusty revolver. "How you must have hated him and his lexical semantics! You figured you'd kill him and keep the money from the paper yourself. You forced him to write that suicide note, thinking you knew where it was. But he was suspicious and he'd already hidden it. And he had another surprise for you: the rest of the note, it doesn't reveal where the paper is, it reveals his killer. The final homophones: dyed buy won witch where's ate carrot wring. That is: died by one which wears eight carat ring."

     As the cops left with Mrs. Nettleston I took a quick trip round the maze of tunnels. It didn't take me long to find it. Most of the wine lay unpacked on racks but in one corner two cases sat stacked, one on top of each other. Carefully, I opened the lower one.

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Paid in full with one glass of milk

 

One day, a boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young girl opened the door. 

Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She thought he looked hungry so she brought him a large glass of milk. 

He drank it slowly and then asked, "How much do I owe you?" 

"You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother taught us never to accept payment for a kindness." 

"Then I thank you from the bottom of my heart," he replied. 

As the boy left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith had been restored. He had been ready to give up and quit. 

Year's later that young girl became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. 

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room. 

Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. After meeting her, he went back to the consultation room determined to save her life. From that day he gave all his attention to her case. 

After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, and then wrote something in the margin and the bill was sent to her room. 

She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She began to read the following words…. 

Paid in full with one glass of milk. 

Signed…..

Dr. Howard Kelly.

Abby's fish tank 🐠🐋🐟

 One day a tiny water snail appears in Abby's fish tank.

No one knew how Mr. Sticky got in the fish tank.

     "He's very small," Mum said as she peered at the tiny water snail. "Just a black dot."

     "He'll grow," said Abby and pulled her pyjama bottoms up again before she got into bed. They were always falling down.

In the morning Abby jumped out of bed and switched on the light in her fish tank.

     Gerry, the fat orange goldfish, was dozing inside the stone archway. Jaws was already awake, swimming along the front of the tank with his white tail floating and twitching. It took Abby a while to find Mr. Sticky because he was clinging to the glass near the bottom, right next to the gravel.

     At school that day she wrote about the mysterious Mr. Sticky who was so small you could mistake him for a piece of gravel. Some of the girls in her class said he seemed an ideal pet for her and kept giggling about it.

     That night Abby turned on the light to find Mr. Sticky clinging to the very tiniest, waviest tip of the pond weed. It was near the water filter so he was bobbing about in the air bubbles.

     "That looks fun," Abby said. She tried to imagine what it must be like to have to hang on to things all day and decided it was probably very tiring. She fed the fish then lay on her bed and watched them chase each other round and round the archway. When they stopped Gerry began nibbling at the pond weed with his big pouty lips. He sucked Mr. Sticky into his mouth then blew him back out again in a stream of water. The snail floated down to the bottom of the tank among the coloured gravel.

"I think he's grown a bit," Abby told her Mum at breakfast the next day.

     "Just as well if he's going to be gobbled up like that," her Mum said, trying to put on her coat and eat toast at the same time.

     "But I don't want him to get too big or he won't be cute anymore. Small things are cute aren't they?"

     "Yes they are. But big things can be cute too. Now hurry up, I'm going to miss my train."

 

At school that day, Abby drew an elephant. She needed two pieces of expensive paper to do both ends but the teacher didn't mind because she was pleased with the drawing and wanted it on the wall. They sellotaped them together, right across the elephant's middle. In the corner of the picture, Abby wrote her full name, Abigail, and drew tiny snails for the dots on the 'i's The teacher said that was very creative.

     At the weekend they cleaned out the tank. "There's a lot of algae on the sides," Mum said. "I'm not sure Mr. Sticky's quite up to the job yet."

     They scooped the fish out and put them in a bowl while they emptied some of the water. Mr. Sticky stayed out of the way, clinging to the glass while Mum used the special 'vacuum cleaner' to clean the gravel. Abby trimmed the new pieces of pond weed down to size and scrubbed the archway and the filter tube. Mum poured new water into the tank.

     "Where's Mr. Sticky?" Abby asked.

     "On the side," Mum said. She was busy concentrating on the water. "Don't worry I was careful."

     Abby looked on all sides of the tank. There was no sign of the water snail.

     "He's probably in the gravel then," her mum said. "Come on let's get this finished. I've got work to do." She plopped the fish back in the clean water where they swam round and round, looking puzzled.

That evening Abby went up to her bedroom to check the tank. The water had settled and looked lovely and clear but there was no sign of Mr. Sticky. She lay on her bed and did some exercises, stretching out her legs and feet and pointing her toes. Stretching was good for your muscles and made you look tall a model had said on the t.v. and she looked enormous. When Abby had finished, she kneeled down to have another look in the tank but there was still no sign of Mr. Sticky. She went downstairs.

Her mum was in the study surrounded by papers. She had her glasses on and her hair was all over the place where she'd been running her hands through it. She looked impatient when she saw Abby in the doorway and even more impatient when she heard the bad news.

     "He'll turn up." was all she said. "Now off to bed Abby. I've got masses of work to catch up on."

     Abby felt her face go hot and red. It always happened when she was angry or upset.

     "You've hoovered him up haven't you," she said. You were in such a rush you hoovered him up."

     "I have not. I was very careful. But he is extremely small."

     "What's wrong with being small?"

     "Nothing at all. But it makes things hard to find."

     "Or notice," Abby said and ran from the room.

The door to the bedroom opened and Mum's face appeared around the crack. Abby tried to ignore her but it was hard when she walked over to the bed and sat next to her. She was holding her glasses in her hand. She waved them at Abby.

     "These are my new pair," she said. "Extra powerful, for snail hunting." She smiled at Abby. Abby tried not to smile back.

     "And I've got a magnifying glass," Abby suddenly remembered and rushed off to find it.

     They sat beside each other on the floor. On their knees they shuffled around the tank, peering into the corners among the big pebbles, at the gravel and the pondweed.

     "Ah ha!" Mum suddenly cried.

     "What?" Abby moved her magnifying glass to where her mum was pointing.

     There, tucked in the curve of the archway, perfectly hidden against the dark stone, sat Mr. Sticky. And right next to him was another water snail, even smaller than him.

     "Mrs Sticky!" Abby breathed. "But where did she come from?"

     "I'm beginning to suspect the pond weed don't you think?"

     They both laughed and climbed into Abby's bed together, cuddling down under the duvet. It was cozy but a bit of a squeeze.

     "Budge up," Mum said, giving Abby a push with her bottom.

     "I can't, I'm already on the edge."

     "My goodness you've grown then. When did that happen? You could have put an elephant in here last time we did this."

     Abby put her head on her mum's chest and smiled.

_END_

by Mo McAuley

Four friend's

 

In a town lived four friends. Three of them were very learned. That is, they knew everything written in books. But they had no sense.

The fourth one had not read so many books. But he had a lot of sense.

One day the four friends met. “What is the use of our knowledge ‘?” they said. “We must travel. Then we can put our knowledge to some use and earn some money.”

When they had gone a little way the eldest of them said, “Our fourth friend is stupid. He knows very little. When we earn money, we shall not share it with him. He should go back home.”

The second one said, “Yes, yes, he should go back home. But the third friend said, “No, no. You must not say that. He is our friend. We have played together since we were little boys. He shall have a share of the money we earn.”

The four friends went on. in a forest, they found the bones of an animal. One of them said, “These are the bones of some animal. Let us bring it back to life.”

The eldest said, “I know how to make a skeleton from the bones.” The second said, “I can give it skin, flesh and blood.” The third said, “I can give it life.” But the fourth friend, the only one who had sense, said : “No, no ! Please don’t do that. This is a lion. If you give him life, he will kill each one of us.”

“You know nothing,” said the third. must put my knowledge to the test.”

“In that case,” said the fourth, “wait a moment till I climb this big tree.”

He climbed up just as the lion came back to life. The lion roared and killed all the three friends. But the man of sense waited till the lion had gone. He then climbed down and went home.

Loyalty

 A man said - My wife was sleeping next to me. And suddenly I got a notification from facebook, some girl requested to add me. So I thought let me see who is it..🙂

I accepted her friend request and i sent her a message asking: " WHO IS IT?" 

She replied : I AM SO AND SO, I HEARD YOU GOT MARRIED, BUT I STILL MISS YOU. 

(It was a friend from the past. She was a beautiful and elegant girl)

I closed the chat to make sure my wife was Sleeping. 

I looked at her she was sleeping deeply after her exhausting day from doing all the chores.

As I stared at her, i started to think - 

How does she feel so safe that she can sleep deeply and comfortably in a completely new home to her? 

She is far from home,  where she spent 24 years surrounded by her family.😊

When she became angry or sad,  her mother was there for her so she could cry on her lap. Her sister or brother cracked jokes and made her laugh very hard. Her father would come home and bring her all that she liked. 

All these thoughts came to my mind, so i picked up the phone and pressed "BLOCK"😇

I turned to face her and slept next to her. Because I Am A Man. A Man Who Doesn’t Cheat On His Wife And Doesn’t Break Her Family. ❤️

HOSPITAL WINDOW

 Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.

One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.

His bed was next to the room’s only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon,  when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

 

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.

Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days, weeks and months passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.

She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.

He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.

She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.’

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Epilogue:

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.

Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.

If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can’t buy.

‘Today is a gift, that is why it is called   The Present.’

Shake it off

On an unfortunate day, a man’s favorite donkey falls off a large cliff. He tries to pull the donkey out, but all his efforts go in vain. Disheartened, the man decides to bury the poor donkey.

He starts to pour soil and sand from above. The donkey, which is stuck down, feels the load of the soil and shakes it off his body. The man pours the soil again. And, once again the donkey shakes it off. The man notices that the donkey is shaking off the soil and is steeping on the soil bed, which is acting as a form of elevation. He realizes the donkey is slowly inching closer to the top. With every load of soil that is poured, the donkey rises higher.

Several hours pass by, and the man continues to pour the soil until the donkey is united with him again.

Moral: Face your hardships courageously as no problem is big enough to stop you from rising.

The Fat Lady Story

Story of guy who met a very healthy woman in flight.

Squeezing herself into the seat she smiled and said, “Hi, how are you? Not in mood to talk to any stranger he ignored.

Women repeated her greeting in friendly voice, leaning toward the guy forcing him to look at her. Guy replied with, “Hi.” with intention of avoiding the further talk.

Guy turned away and stare out of the cabin. Again the woman nudged and said, “My name is Laura. I am from Britain. Where are you from?”

“Malaysia” ,Guy replied rudely.

She continued chat, “Please accept my heartfelt apology. I am sorry. This is gonna be long flight so we should better be friends, Don’t you think?” Ignoring the unfriendly behavior of the guy.

She started to talk about her trip and how excited she was about the trip. Her such liveliness made the guy lower his guards. With passing time he realized that she was charming and made everyone smile around her. During conversation, She managed to make every crew member laugh. She cracked jokes about her size. One of the flight attended came to her and said’ “Thank you, You made my day!”

In between all the fun and talk guy asked woman, “Have you ever thought about losing some weight? Aren’t you worried about disease that come with being over weight?”

She chuckled replied, “Not at all, I am happy the way i am. Why should i waste my time on slimming when i have more important things to do. I am this size because i was born big. Folks often call me big lady, they think I am lazy and have no will power. They are wrong.”

“I am actually a slim person. I am so full of nature that people won’t be able to keep up with me. I know this extra flesh is here to keep me from chasing after men everywhere.” she continued smiling.

Guy asked, “Do men chase after you?”

“Yes, I am happily married and still get proposals all the time. Most of them have relationship problems and for some reasons they like to talk to me. Sometimes I think i should be counselor instead of te

Beginning Shows the End

Blind people have a sense of touch that helps them see what they can't see with their eyes. Once there was a blind man who had a super-sense of touch. By and by the fame of his extra-keen sense of touch spread far and wide and one day reached the king's court as well. The king didn't believe it. He said that he would test it personally.

So, the blind man was summoned to the court for the test. He was given a seat and on the king's bidding, a wolf-cub was placed on his lap. The blind man caressed every part of the cub's body to know it's reality.

The king asked, "What is this baby-animal?"

Blind man replied, "Your Honour! It may be a wolf-cub or a fox-cub. But certainly, I can say that it won't be safe to trust it in a sheep-fold."

The king was highly pleased at the blind man's reply and rewarded him handsomely.

The Oak Tree and the Reeds

The Oak tree always thought that he was far stronger than the reeds.

He said to himself "I stand upright in storm. I don't bend my head in fear every time the wind blows. But these reeds are really so weak."

That very night blew a storm and the mighty oak tree was uprooted.

"Thank god!" sighed the reeds, "Our way is better. We bend but we don't break."

Once Bitten Twice Shy

Once a watch-dog was sleeping in a farm-yard in the sun. Somehow a wolf got into the farm and attacked the sleeping dog. Taken aback, the dog begged for mercy.

He said, Sir! I am very thin and weak as I am new here. Let me get fat after feeding on rich food that I get here. Then you can come and eat me up.

The wolf was taken by the dog's words and went away leaving it free. The dog thanked his stars and decided not to sleep in an unsafe place.

After few days, the wolf re-visited the farm and looked for the dog. This time the dog was lying very safely on the roof of the stable. Seeing the dog, the wolf said, Hope you remember your commitment. So, come down and be my meat.

The dog said, Who makes agreements for death? Get lost Mr., wolf.

The wolf went away repenting over his folly.

An Unfair World

One day, a man while walking towards his office saw a beggar coming to him. The beggar was in a very bad condition. He was barefoot and his clothes were torn.  When the beggar asked for money, the man said, Why don't you work? Don't you feel ashamed asking people for money?

At this the beggar replied, I do feel ashamed asking for money. But once when I took money without asking, the police took me to jail. The man had no answer to this. He went on his way to the office.

Obeying The Rules

On the front gate of a temple, there was a sign which read, Remove your footwear before entering the temple. A guard had also been appointed there.  One day, the guard saw a man entering the temple and asked him, Where are your shoes? The man replied, I don't wear shoes. Then you can't go inside, said the guard. Why? asked the man Didn't you read the sign? It says that you can't enter the temple without removing your shoes or slippers. From FunShop

Selling Of The House

Robert was trying to sell his house since long but couldn't succeed. One day, he took out a brick from the wall of his house. His wife angrily asked him, Why did you do that? Robert replied, You are foolish! You don't know anything. I know why am I failing again and again in selling my house. I have never shown its sample to anyone. Now I have got a customer. I have promised him to this brick as a sample of our house. His wife held her head at the foolishness of her husband.

From FunShop, new page only happiness with silly short story.. Please visit

🎸The Lute Player

During a war. the enemy captured the king. They asked his queen to pay a ransom if she wanted her husband back.

One day, a lute player came to the enemy king’s court and began to play. The king loved the music so much that he said. “You can ask for anything and I shall give it to you!” The lute player said, “Give me the captured king as my slave!” The enemy agreed and king was set free.

 

Soon. the lute player and the slave king left the palace and after some distance. the lute player set him free. The king returned to his kingdom and said. “When I was a slave the queen did not care! I shall kill her!” Saying this, he marched into his bedroom. But. lie heard the strains of beautiful lute music. He then saw his queen playing the lute and understood who the mysterious lute player was.

Crab the Merchant

The king had lost a precious ring! He declared that he would reward anyone who found it for him.

A clever peasant, named Crab, went to the king and said, “I am an astrologer and will find your ring.” The king told his servants to take Crab to a room and treat him well. As the days passed by, Crab pretended that he knew astrology and pored over books. The servants were very afraid of him. One day, Crab asked his wife to hide in the room and say, “He is the one!” when any servant entered. When one of the servants heard the voice saying, “He is the one,” he was scared and confessed of stealing the ring. He offered Crab money and begged him to leave him alone. Crab asked him to put the ring in the mouth of a turkey in the garden. Then Crab went to the king and declared that a turkey had swallowed the ring. When the turkey was cut, the ring was found. The king rewarded Crab handsomely.

THE MAGICAL STICKS

A rich merchant had many servants in his house. One day the merchant’s wife’s beloved necklace disappeared from her vault. Gradually  precious things in the house started disappearing one by one. The merchant was troubled by the thief in his house. He suspected one of his many servants to be the thief. But it was very difficult to identify and catch the thief among all the other servants in his huge house. The troubled merchant contacted his wise friend Birbal about the recent incidents.

After listening to the merchant, Birbal agreed to help the merchant and went to his house.  Birbal summoned all the merchant’s servants and started interrogating them one by one. He received nothing but absolute denial from every single one of them.

An idea, then struck Birbal. He handed over a stick to every servant, all of the same length. He told them that the stick  was magical and the stick of the thief would grow by two inches the next day. The servants were ordered to present the stick to Birbal the next day.

The next day, as ordered, the servants assembled at the merchant’s house with their sticks. As Birbal examined each stick, he noticed that one of the servants was holding a stick that was two inches shorter.

“This is your thief, merchant.”- Birbal said, pointing at the servant.

When the merchant asked Birbal to reason his accusation, he said- “Honest men never feared about the growth of their stick. The thief  had already cut his stick shorter by two inches fearing that his stick will be long by two inches next morning.”

"The most free person in the world is the one who has nothing to hide."