ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The Nice People‚ by Henry Cuyler Bunner‚ is republished from his volume‚ Short Sixes‚ by permission of its publishers‚ Charles Scribner’s Sons. The Buller-Podington Compact‚ by Frank Richard Stockton‚ is from his volume‚ Afield and Afloat‚ and is republished by permission of Charles Scribner’s Sons. _Colonel Starbottle for the Plaintiff_‚ by Bret Harte‚ is from the collection of his stories entitled Openings in the Old Trail‚ and is republished by permission of the Houghton Mifflin
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"Warning this story comes with a curse ‚listening to the end will give you the curse.” Mary was a girl who loved to be scared and October was her favorite time of the year ‚because her school had a scary story club after school‚ on Halloween a new boy wanted to speak ‚his name was Chris‚ Mary saw him but never talked to him .he went up to the stage ‚and he began to talk and as he talked the room seemed to get darker and colder ‚and then he yelled “and there” ‚and he held up a mirror scaring everybody
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Do you like suspense stories? If so‚ “Sorry Wrong Number” by Lucille Fletcher and “Sorry Right Number” by Stephen King are two very good suspense stories. The plot of both of the stories are centered around phone calls. Both stories center around a mysterious phone call. In “Sorry Wrong Number”‚ the phone call is about someone’s murder. And in “Sorry Right Number‚” the phone call is about a woman crying‚ she says “ Take… please take… t-t- take him to the hospital. He is going to have a heart attack
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The muskrat sold cologne from door to door. He had a vague sense of hope for the day his black briefcase of bottles would cease to rattle and leak. He walked from door to door‚ street to street‚ home to home. The skunk flicked him a pity scent. The chipmunk despised “such worldly vanities.” One whiff—the ancient frog croaked on the spot. The cat preferred perfume. The muskrat was hard-pressed to move his pungent inventory. He felt helpless and lonely‚ he felt frivolous. Not to mention‚ he could never
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This is a story about loss‚ about being different‚ and about the world’s many evils. This story will fable heroes who learn to summon unwavering courage in times of unimaginable adversity. This is a story about sacrifice and the willingness to oppose bitterness and hatred in honor of the greater good. This story will highlight the devastation that corrupt governments leave in their wake. The characters in this story will undergo tests‚ trials‚ and imperfections that may seem large scale‚ but ultimately
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BAM! The crowd roared after I did this‚ I just hit my first single of my career‚ and not the only time I will get another one. It felt musky while I hit it‚ and it was beginning to get cloudy in the distance as well. My friends Trevor‚ Collin‚ Evan‚ Andrew‚ and Michael congratulated me once I got into the dug-out. At the time I was only seven years old. I always remind myself that I have to work for things in order to accomplish things. I was mesmerized that I actually hit it‚ at first I just tried
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on the family that was crying. The elder lady whom looked to be fresh out of church with her big floppy hat on and off-white skirt and blouse. She set in a chair across from my mom sobbing like she’d lost her child. I knew cause her cries were of a broken mother. A young girl whom could’ve been maybe twelve or thirteen was fanning the older lady with one of those paper fans from church. It had a picture of praying hands with a rosary and a scripture on top. The man that was standing next to her rubbing
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watched over them with warm affection in her tranquil eyes. The she-cat smiled before dipping her head to slide out of the make-shift den. She paused for a moment‚ waiting for her eyes to adjust to the inviting sunshine on greenleaf. The pale she-cat broken into a run‚ taking in the freshness of the air and winds of the forest she had been apart from for so long. At last‚ she was back. She felt free‚ and afraid. Somewhere within the forest‚ was the cat she had once fled from. Despite her return‚ she
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next to the wreckage as the firefighters hurry forward to free the lady trapped inside her car. The kid who rolled off the side of the bleachers screams as the paramedics lift him onto a stretcher. His leg is twisted at an odd angle. It’s definitely broken. Coach points to me‚ and I’m cornered by a pair of medical technicians. They quickly begin triage and seem confused when they wipe away the dust and find that I’m perfectly unharmed. I snap out of it enough to convince them I’m not suffering from
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Winchell nervously looks at the clock on the wall‚ which is directly in front of him‚ peers through the glass panel at his left into the engineer´s booth‚ and then glances around the room. It is thirty seconds to nine. A studio visitor‚ seated in one of the four chairs alongside the wall‚ coughs‚ and Winchell looks up anxiously‚ He reaches for the water pitcher‚ fills a paper cup‚ and takes a quick swallow. The buzzer sounds on the keyboard in front of the announcer as the engineer signals fifteen
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