Story Pages, read short stories.

Painting a picture for your readers, story writing styles.

2013-03-06T06:33:00.000Z

Writing Styles and Tips.

When you are learning to write fiction, many pieces of advice may be offered to you.
A pieces of advice about writing, that I have found useful:

Do not tell, show.

Showing the story, rather than telling the story works well for the descriptive style of writing that I enjoy using. This is a frequently offered piece of advice, but it is easy to overlook how well it works.

Eventually learning to use a technique like this, to improve your writing, will become part of the way you write and becomes 'almost instinctive' and part of your style.

B.T.W. There are successful writers that do not use this style in their writing or use it less frequently than others. Finding your style and writing voice, is about discovering what works best for you.

Photo of a sunset, Greek Island.

2013-02-27T09:48:00.002Z

How to begin writing in a descriptive way.

2013-02-27T09:46:00.004Z

One of the easiest way to discover how to write in a descriptive way is:

Imagine that you are explaining and describing a scene or situation to a person who has no experience of the thing you are attempting to describe.

Let's have some exaggerated examples of this scenario:

Describe walking through a snowy landscape to a person who has always lived in a place that is a hot dry desert.
Describe something everyday to an alien from another planet that has contacted you. You can only communicate with words not pictures.
Describe a beach or coastline to someone who has never seen a beach or the sea. Make it more dramatic, they have never seen pictures of a beach or the sea nor heard the sounds, they do not know what the grains of sand feel like, or that the sea water tastes of salt.

I hope that this is useful to someone, somewhere.

Short Grammer Check help page link.

2013-02-26T22:57:00.002Z

A link to a grammar check page, the use of their, there and they're

First Lines, to prompt or inspire writing a story.

2013-02-25T13:42:00.001Z

Five first line, sentence prompts for writing a short story.

It was in the last five seconds that the truth became blindingly obvious to him.
In the time it took him to drink his coffee he made a decision that changed his life.
The sea slowly eroded the coast line, day to day it was not noticeable but over time it was obvious.
The dog had hung around in the yard long enough to know it was time to find a new home.
Rainy days may seem depressing but this one was particularly bad.

Not sure how popular this will be, but if enough people visit this page I will continue with this.

A Valentine’s Day Short Story called Once Bitten.

2013-02-14T11:00:00.002Z

Once Bitten. Short Story.

Valentine’s Day and Marcie was sure that she had the most wonderful boyfriend, his name was Ryan.

That Valentine’s morning he had arrived at her home with a bouquet of red roses, an eternity ring and an adorable puppy.

The plan he revealed to her that day was that they would move in together, they could live in the flat above his father’s fish and chip shop in the High Street. Marcie thought it was a really cute puppy, the ring fitted perfectly and the red roses must mean that he loved her. Well she thought they did. But she did not really like the idea of living in the flat above the chip shop. Marcie wanted to be with him so badly that she decided to go and live there with him anyway.

Fast forward a year, to another February the 14^th and she was packing her clothes into suitcases and boxing up her possessions to remove them from the flat. Annoyingly all her clothes had a hint of High Street ‘chippy’ fragrance about them.

The puppy was now fully grown and it kept nipping her ankles with its teeth as she walked from room to room. She bent down to take hold of Oscar’s collar to encourage him into a room where she could wedge the door shut. As she put her hand on the collar she felt him sink his teeth into the flesh on the back of her hand. Marcie knew straight away that this was not just a nip and that it needed treatment.

Several phone calls later, Marcie had established that Ryan could not take her to the doctor’s or the A&E department as he said he was too busy. The dog was scratching at the door to get out, her hand was painful and starting to swell. She did not have enough money in her purse to pay for a taxi, which was what Ryan had suggested she use for her journey.

Marcie picked up the phone to call her dad. The person who answered was not her dad and then she remembered he was staying with his friends while his kitchen was redecorated.

She spluttered out details of who she was and what had happened to the decorator and then asked if he could contact her dad to help her. The kind voice that had taken the call said do not worry, I will get it sorted out for you.

Five minutes later a decorator’s white van stopped outside the chip shop in the High Street. He did not mind taking her to get the treatment she needed for the dog bite. He did not mind loading her suitcase and boxes into the van to take to her father’s house. He was not willing to take the dog with them in case it attacked them on the journey. She was happy with that anyway as she was sending a message to Ryan, that the dog was his now and his alone. The eternity ring had been cut off, because her hand was badly swollen. She had left the two halves of the ring on the table in the flat. Oh, and by the way she told Ryan not to bother with a card or roses this year as she was not interested.

A bit of a disastrous Valentine’s Day, you might think.

Unless, I tell you that once the clothes once washed and hung out to dry in the fresh air lost the smell of chips being fried.

The decorator, was really rather nice and took her out for dinner and the two of them now live in a nice little house in the countryside. Marcie’s hand healed well and there is now just a tiny dent where one tooth left a mark. It reminds her of lucky escape she had one Valentine’s Day, a long time ago.

Very Short Story. The Three Sisters from a Small Town.

2013-02-03T20:01:00.000Z

Three sisters lived in a small town with their grandmother. This meant that they all had to have the most sensible shoes and clothes for going to school in. Inevitably they were teased. The eldest was called names because she had freckles, the middle one was insulted because her school shoes made her feet look even bigger than they were and the youngest was laughed at for being too small.

Luckily, the three sisters got on together well and between them coped well with the name calling and taunts. Eventually they grew up and left the small town and yes they too grandmother with them. The three sisters work in the city now but live in the countryside a short train journey down the track. Grandmother grows vegetables and fruit for them in the garden of the house they live in.

The eldest sister is now a beautician with her own business and has many famous women seeking her advice. The middle granddaughter is a shoe designer and has her designers selling on three different continents. The little one, the youngest, well she stays at home with grandmother and has opened a restaurant next door to their house. People are begging to book a table for the restaurant as it is so popular, even the food critics cannot fault it.

The moral of this story is, do not get mad or sad, just make them envious.

2013-01-21T22:47:00.003Z

Sunset photo.

A famous French fictional character.

2013-01-08T23:32:00.001Z

This is a statue of the fictional character Cyrano de Bergerac.

The photo was taken in France.

http://www.story-pages.com/

Short Stories - The Quiet Girl with a Beautiful Smile (this story is less than 400 words).

2013-01-08T21:10:00.001Z

The Quiet Girl with a Beautiful Smile. A short story.

It was her best friend who told her that the first time she saw him she had held her breath for too long and let it escape as a sigh. A year later and she was still trying to learn not to stop breathing for a second each time she saw him. The first time he spoke to her she was lost for words, luckily her friend spoke up for her. They talked for a while and then he said goodbye to them both. That day she felt a feeling almost like a toothache as he walked away, except she had perfect and beautiful teeth.

Her friend teased her as they walked home and then had to repeat the conversation she had just had to make sure they could talk about it and share it again in the future.

After a month him of talking to her friend each time they met and her continued silence, it was her friend he asked to go with him to see the latest film. The friend went home to consider the offer while she hid away and wept.

It was a year later that she reluctantly agreed to be a bridesmaid at their wedding. In front of a mirror she practiced standing and not weeping or trembling as she said aloud the vows her best friend would exchange on the wedding day.

As she held her friends bridal bouquet she realized that it was really not as bad as she had thought it would be. Seeing him surrounded by his family, dressed up like a stranger and the fact that she had noticed a couple of annoying things about him recently helped her.

After the wedding there was a big party and she got to meet his brothers, all of whom were as attractive and charming as he was. But, it was a cousin of his that caught her attention and they then spent the evening laughing, talking and dancing together. Later he confessed that when he had seen a photo of his cousin’s future wife he had been attracted and impressed by her good looks. However when he saw the bride to be in real life she was not as beautiful as the bridesmaid standing next to her, who had smiled at him. He told her that her smile was the nicest he had ever seen and he should know as he was training to be a dentist.

And a dentist makes a very good husband when you eventually have five children together, as it saves on the dentistry bills.

* This is a copyright protected site.

2013-01-02T18:30:00.000Z

A Short Story. The World is Your Ocean, stories to read online.

2013-01-02T14:29:00.000Z

The World is Your Ocean, a short story.

Watching the sun rise on a new year can create a sense of urgency by urging you to make decisions about the other 364 days that have yet to see the light of day. The ocean is usually a calming place to watch the sun slowly climb above the line of the horizon. He loved to watch the sky and water become suffused with the colours and light of a new day. Today though he was troubled by the choices that faced him and this feeling dampened the pleasure he might have otherwise felt.

Last night his father had urged him to begin to make decisions about his future. He had known his father was concerned about him, but he had not been expecting his father to speak out so soon and so openly about his worries and hopes for him. Now he felt overwhelmed by of a sense of loss of freedom, the chance to make his choices in his own time. It was as if his father had set a clock ticking.

Now he was the one who had to live with the questioning looks that his father gave him, whenever he was doing something that was considered a waste of time. Things like sitting by the ocean as he had this morning and watching the dawn break, were of importance to him, but not to his father. Was his father ever a young man he asked himself ? Of course he had been, but could he remember what it felt like to be young and full of hope and dreams?

The old man sat in the shadows of the house as the sun rose and illuminated the roof tops with a rosy pink glow. The windows of some of the houses reflected the colours of the sunrise. This reminded him of when he was a young man and had been out fishing very early in the day. One of the rewards for this, apart from a breakfast of freshly cooked fish had been to watch the dawn break. The slow rise of the sun as it began its daily journey across the vast pale sky above the ocean, was an awesome sight.

Today his heart felt heavy with responsibility and almost ached from the words he had been forced to say to his young son last night. There is an ancient saying, it is that you cannot put an old head on young shoulders. This he knew was true, but sometimes one had to try to offer advice from your own experience. Now though he was concerned he had appeared to critical of the young man.

My son, he sighed to himself. I need you to make the right decisions now son, because I know that I will not be around forever to guide you. The boy needed an education and he would only do well if he choose to study because he wanted to and not because he was forced to. His wife had agreed with him that first they would see him through university if he wished to study. Later they would then stop working so hard and enjoy their time together. He would retire from his trade and then he would spend the mornings fishing once again.

The world is a vast place but home and his parents would always welcome him back and he wanted his son to discover this for himself.

By the ocean the young man throws a stone into the sea. He looks at the ripples spreading outwards and then notices that afterwards the water is looking as if nothing had happened. He will return home and tell his father that he will find a place where he would like to study. He knows this will please the family and that if he then decides to be a fisherman later in life it will be from choice and not from necessity.

Copyright for this story belongs to the author and it may not be reused online or in published text.
However if you like it you may recommend it to others and Story Page website that would be nice and thank you.
2013 by 2uesday (S.M.H.)

Very Short Christmas Story.Santa Gets Younger Every Year.

2012-12-24T12:09:00.001Z

Christmas time just made her feel sad, it rekindled memories of the good times they had shared. The shops were full of things to give and share, it was today's way of showing you cared. They had not needed much, being together, the touch of a hand.

Most of the year you could block out the loneliness but at Christmas time it became obvious. The friendly questions of who, what and where came thick and fast at this time of year. So she volunteered to help out at the community party for the old folk. No chance of meeting someone there, she smiled sadly as she left the house.

It was busy to say the least, serving cups of tea and mince pies to the people chatting happily as they waited for her. Lots of friendly smiles and teasing but then they all knew each other well. She knew she would return home to an empty room apart from the cat. The cat would be sulking because she had gone out and left him alone.

After the party food there was songs and much laughter about the good old days. Then Santa arrived with a sack of gifts to hand out. My word, she thought, Santa gets younger and better looking every year.
Eventually all the gifts were handed out and Santa came over to the kitchen for a well earned cup of tea. As she handed him the cup she suddenly recognised him and instantly she could feel a girlish blush colour her cheeks. It was her childhood sweetheart from her school days. It was amazing to see him again especially as the last she had heard he was in Australia.

"Is that you Stella" he asked softly as he took the tea cup from her hand.

She nodded and smiled and said his name
"Daniel, I never expected to see you here."

"I am home for good now, just looking for a place to live and settle."

"That's good news."

He smiled and said "These home made mince pies are good, I do n't expect I will get any as good as these again."

She laughed and said "Well, you could if you popped around to see me, seeings as I am the one that made them. That is if you are free some time."

The next year both of them helped out at the old folks' Christmas party. They were rewarded with a small gift and a toast was made to the newly married couple, the childhood sweethearts who had been reunited at the old folks Christmas party.

Lillie and the Lottery Ticket to Good Fortune. Another Short Story to read online.

2012-11-25T20:04:00.003Z

Day in and day out she kept the secret anger hidden. All the nasty little thoughts about things being unfair she buried them away somewhere deep. Even when someone pushed in front of her, she just sighed and let them get away with it. When her boss blamed her for his mistakes, she just smiled and put them right in her own time. The reason for this came from her upbringing as she grew up in a place where it was wrong to draw attention to yourself in any way,especially if you were a young woman.

One day as she walked to work she told herself that she did not feel that young anymore. Life was a making her feel care worn. At the bakery she waited for her turn to buy a cake for breakfast she planned to eat it on her way to work. Suddenly, an elderly woman rushed into the baker's shop with a sense of urgency and pushed her way to the front of the line of people waiting there. Once there she began to demand this cake and then that cake and then another. Lillie turned and walked away, even though she was next in the line to buy her cake.

Lillie did not feel hungry as she walked to work, she turned the coin for the cake over in her pocket. She could buy a lottery ticket with it, yes she would do that. Then she saw the young tired looking child sitting at the side of the pathway, as she walked past a tiny hand stretched out towards her. Lillie thought if only she had the cake she would have given it to her. She clutched the coin to buy the lottery ticket tightly in her hand and thought of what a bit of good luck might buy her. Then she bent forward and pressed the coin into the upturned palm of the child's hand and whispered "Spend it well, eat today."

Now that might be a sad end to the story for Lillie, but for the fact that an old woman was walking past and saw what Lillie had just done.

"Did you need that money?" She asked Lillie.

Lillie shrugged her shoulders and said "It does not matter really."

"Was it for your food?" She asked Lillie again.

Lillie told her what had happened and the woman smiled at her and said she was a kind person to behave in such a way. The next day Lillie saw the old woman as she was walking to work, not the bad tempered one from the bakery, but the old lady who had smiled at her. Today she pressed a lottery ticket into Lillie's hand and said let me know how you get on with this.

Of course Lillie did not win, the odds were stacked against her. In an instant the important lottery ticket became a piece of paper which in turn became a throw away scrap.

The good news in this story is not the lottery ticket winning. It is that the old woman was looking for someone to help her to care for her precious grandchild and because she had seen Lillie's kindness and calm nature she offered her the job.

Now Lillie does not have to worry about the angry feeling inside, it has disappeared. Along with dealing with the old women pushing in front of her in the bakery or the boss with the bad temper. All of these problems have vanished as if by magic and she has a happy life caring for the precious grandchild of the woman who gave her the lottery ticket to freedom.

Copyright 2uesdays/ S.M.H.

The Changing of the Seasons. Descriptive poetry.

2012-11-23T15:41:00.004Z

A Short Poem. The Changing of the Seasons.

The leaves are falling.
Winter is calling.

I hear it in the wind that gusts and snatches at the leaves.
Then they spiral down,carpeting the ground.

Some days the leaves are dry
beneath my footsteps they crackle.

Wet days they slip, slide and sigh
as in haste I walk by.

So this is it, the summer's heat
turned to a red and gold carpet
beneath my feet. I look at the sky
and see the grey horizon, cold
promise of days yet to be.

How fortunate to live
in a place where the landscape
marks time with the seasons.
Giving me reasons to follow
the passing of the days.
And mark them so as not
too waste them.
Follow the seasons, your footsteps
will pace you. Then you will be aware
that time changes everything.
......................................

Copyright for this poem
and all other writing here belongs to
the writer 2uesday. S.M.H.
..............................................

Autumn trees photo by 2uesday,
fall leaf colours

Peacock Feathers, a short story.

2012-11-21T20:51:00.002Z

A Short Story about the influence of peacock feathers on a young man's decision.

She picked up the peacock feather from the garden pathway, it happened so quickly, before he could call out to her to leave it be. With great joy she explained to him how lucky peacock feathers were considered to be in the city where she had been born. He remained silent, not wishing to alert her to the fear that had struck him as he saw what she had just done. How could such ancient superstitions still fill him with such a feeling of dread.

He would not allow her to take the feather beyond the garden gate, his parents would have never understood her ignorance of their customs. She pretended to sulk, and she pouted her lips and would not speak to him for the next hour or two.

Later his father called him into the small library room and asked the inevitable question
"Is this the girl you would like to marry?"
With a heavy heart he had to admit that he did not believe they would make a good match.
His father sighed and turned his back to him. The alliance of this marriage would have strengthened the two families in many ways.
"Yet you rejected the local girl last month." The tone in his voice was cold and he felt his father's disdain.
"I will marry a local girl, just not that one."
His response caused his father to turn around to look at him.
"So now we return this beautiful young woman to her family, with what excuse?"

He could not bring himself to say that their differences were too great. His father may have asked for an example. Her belief that a peacock feather would bring good fortune while he believed it to be a bad omen for anyone who touched it, would not have sounded feasible. Yet it was this that had changed the decision he had been about to make. A future child of theirs would have been confused by the differences between them about such simple things. Indeed now, soon he would marry a local girl if his father could find one who was not only beautiful but also clever enough to understand the way things were here.

A Silly Halloween Story. Very short story.

2012-10-25T22:14:00.001+01:00

Turning the Tables. Story.
The door was locked and bolted, the curtains drawn and the lights were off, except for the little bedside light and the glow of the TV screen. Sarah sat on the bed watching the TV. Her mug of hot chocolate had steamed up her glasses, she had to put down the mug to wipe the glasses.

This was becoming an annual ritual, lock yourself away for Halloween night. It had got worse for her after the incident three years ago. But deep down she knew it had really started to be a problem for her when she was a child. She just hated anything scary, even horror movies that others thought of as tame or amusing.

She flicked through the list of programs available that night and of course many of them featured horror stories and the like. Impatiently she switched off the TV. She heard the doorbell for the tenth time that night. Tomorrow might mean cleaning up after the revellers, but that was preferable to answering the door. Three more long rings and then her mobile phone started to join in. She picked it up and glanced at the screen, it was her daughter calling. "Mum it is us at the door, let us in."

With a sigh she made her way down the stairs and slowly unlocked the door.

"Mother." her daughter sounded shocked, while the two grandchildren gave a yelp and ran off up the path and then clung to each other, near the garden gate. "Mother! You scared the kids,they wanted to come round and give you the Halloween cakes they had made for you." Sara turned and caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. No wonder the kids had got a fright, she had forgotten that she had put on a clay face mask before settling down to watch TV. An hour later they were still all laughing at the way grandma had been the one to play the scare the kids trick, when they had planned a Halloween treat for her.

A very short story. Seeking La Dolce Vita, Tomorrow?

2012-10-24T23:37:00.000+01:00

A decorated walk way
in an Italian city.

He asked her to walk, so that she would talk with him. They stepped out, side by side, but soon he could see that she was distracted by the paintings above their heads,the shoes in the shop windows, the cakes in the bakery window and the smell of coffee being brewed by the barista.

He gave in and sat with her while she sipped at her coffee and nibbled at a dainty pretty cake. His espresso did not last long, so he read the local paper. When he looked up he could see that she only had eyes for the handsome barista, who was smiling back at her. Quietly he left the cafe without them noticing. This was not the end of the world. Italy was full of beautiful women and he just had to find the right one.

Autumn Leaf Fall Colours. Descriptive Poetry.

2012-10-24T23:20:00.002+01:00

Leaf Fall Poem.

Arriving with no warning.
Overnight colours changing.
Darker nights, rearranging,
Lime,reds,golds,fires raging.
Sunbeams converted to gold leaf.
Fluttering, but not hesitating this fall.
Dropping in a flurry, hurry,
not willing to hang around.
You drop and carpet the ground.
Making a layer beneath my feet
a carpet of leaf fall. Tomorrow
no leaves at all, maybe one or two
persistently cling to dark wood.
Gone, and now the monotones begin.
Until the seasons turn once again.

Leaf Fall Poem - poetry -
Copyrighted.
2uesday S.M.H.

Autumn trees in park.
photo by 2uesday.

Link to Mary's Meals Website

2012-10-24T22:56:00.001+01:00

Mary's Meals helps to feed children, they provide a meal for hungry children.
Here is the link for Mary's Meals to find out more about the charity or to make a donation -

Link to Mary's Meals website.

The Only Way Out is Up. A very Short Story, about limitations.

2012-10-23T14:42:00.000+01:00

Short story.
I look up and see that a lone helium balloon is lodged against the ceiling. It is a gold star balloon and already it is slightly deflated. Lodge in the corner of the room with no where to go. Outside it would race to the sky almost as if it was being pulled by something alien into another existence. Of course its rise really would be based on it not being weighed down, earth bound by rules, for as it rises it defies gravity. Except, now it is trapped, unable to move up and onward. I wonder how many present last night had felt the same this morning or might feel like this one day.

A gold balloon, biding time as it is unable to fulfill its destiny. Only with help will it be set free from the limitations of being enclosed in a man made box. One can almost see from the way the balloon already, is not its former self, that time will limit its ability to achieve, greater things.

How to write descriptive stories or poetry.

2012-10-15T09:02:00.003+01:00

Writing Descriptive Stories or Poetry.

A way to write in a descriptive style.
One of the ways I use to write descriptive stories and poetry is to imagine that you are describing something to someone who has never seen or experienced the thing you are writing about.

Try out this the idea with something simple and set yourself a time limit or a word count limit.

Boundaries such as word limits or time limits force you to think more creatively and to edit your writing to reduce the amount of extra words that can dilute the power of what you are attempting to say.

It can help if you cannot picture a scene that you want to describe, to find images that capture the idea of it.

Look at the pictures then put them away and then write descriptively about what 'stays with you' from them.

Descriptive Words for walking on a beach - Beach Walk Poetry.

2012-10-04T09:04:00.004+01:00

Beach Walk. A descriptive poem for poetry day.

Listen what are the sounds that you hear? There is never a silence here.
Close your eyes for one second before you take the next step.
Savor the moment, do not live to regret.

The gull over head,calls an endless cry.
You know that it is wheeling in an endless sky.
The sound of the waves will describe the weather that day.
Gentle and rhythmic or crashing in a turbulent way.
Is the tide edging forward or is it in retreat.

Look at those footprints,ask how big the feet?
Which left their impression upon the wet sand.
Look how close they are together, were they holding hands?

Copyright of this S.M.H. may not be used elsewhere online.
Or published with out requesting the writer's consent.

A Descriptive Short Story about the Sea. Here is the link for a short story about the sea .

2012-10-03T09:32:00.005+01:00

Here is one of my slightly longer short stories it is just under 700 words, it is on one of the websites that I write for.

The Sea is Calling My Name a short story.

The Most Beautiful Girl in the Village. A very short story to read online.

2012-10-03T00:46:00.000+01:00

Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl who was unaware of how many times people were in awe of her beauty. At times she felt very lonely, as no one talked to her or teased her in the way the boys teased the other girls in the village.

Eventually people blamed her for being aloof and unfriendly and said it was because she was was so good looking that had made her think she was better than the other girls.

One night she was walking back from her grandmother's house when the flame in the lantern she was carrying was blown out by a gust of wind. As she struggled home through the darkness a stranger approached her and ask for directions to the village.

Years later he told her that he had fallen in love with her that night when she had paused to speak to him when he asked her the way. It was the sound of her voice that had captivated him in the darkness, Now as they both lived to be very old and were married for many years it was just as well it was not her flawless looks he fell for. For even the most beautiful girl in the village changes slowly with age. The sound of her voice though remained as beautiful as the night that he first met her.