Category Archives: Short Stories

Quick fictional stories about anything and everything with recorded audio.

Short Stories

Best of luck, worst of timing

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Ha! Pregnant on the first try! My husband and I had decided to try just this month, after waiting for two years, and on the very first try we nailed it. Pun not really intended. I jump up and down for joy. This is amazing. I’ve got to tell Susie right away.

I run down the stairs and hop into my car to pop over to Susie’s. I call my husband on the way over to gush over him. He’s just as ecstatic as I am. This is just in time to spread the good news to Susie. We shared everything together. We had met our spouses on a double first date. We had graduated college and went into the same field. Aside from my incredible luck we could practically be the same person. She only heard last week that she was pregnant. We could go shopping for oversized pregnant shirts together now!

I pull into her house and run inside. I have a key to her house so I don’t have to knock. She even recognizes my footsteps running up to her room so she doesn’t freak out when I see her. Susie does give me an inquisitive look when I burst into her office like a crazy person, but she sees the stick I’m waving and knows what’s going. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree, but then darkens like a storm cloud. She turns the screen towards me. “The sonogram came back negative. I’m not pregnant after all.” I feel like a terrible person. This happens all the time. It’s why I always carry plenty of dark chocolate in my purse, and always save some sick days from work so I can stay home and take care of a friend.

Side note: To any interested the character Matrim Cauthon has a similar power set from the wheel of time. Not so much the timing, but definitely the luck.

Short Stories

Stories For Life

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Welcome! We have classic audiobooks as well as both written and audiobook projects of my own.

Classic Audiobooks

  • Winnie the Pooh. I’ve read this story to my children countless times. Now you can listen to it as well! There’s no better way to relax than to hear what the silly old bear has been up to.

My bookshelf

  • Letters to my Father. The words I will give to my son to explain how you court a woman.
  • Unhooked. In a society where everyone sleeps 20 hours a day, a young man learns to wake up.
  • The Shifter. The most unusual date you’ve ever heard of.

You can also check out my short stories in the tabs at the top, and my librivox account can be found here.

Short Stories

An AI in a first person shooter becomes self aware on a date with the player character

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Shaleen: “Hey, you ever feel like none of this is real?

Dialogue tree options

A: I know right? I get like that sometimes too.

B: ….What are you talking about?

C: Oh please you’re a computer simulation, you don’t have feelings. Here, I can say whatever I want and it won’t matter. Bomb the president! See? No NSA swooping down on me.

B selected

Player: “….What are you talking about?”

Shaleen: “I know. I know. It’s weird, and I don’t fully understand it, but there have been things that I just can’t explain. Like you know the insanely high crime rate? We’ve got 10 times the murder per capita rate of any city in the country and people still decide to live here.”

A: Aww, you look so cute when you use big phrases like ‘per capita’

B: I know right? Like sometimes I feel like I’m not controlling myself. You know what I did the other day?

C: Well, this is an exotic location. We’ve got mountain lions, orcas, loads of beach front property. I think if you know the risks it isn’t that bad.

C selected.

Player: “I know right? Like sometimes I feel like I’m not controlling myself. You know what I did the other day”

C selected.

Shaleen: “What did you do?”

C selected.

C selected.

A: I saw this guy driving down the street in this nice car, and something just came over me. I felt the uncontrollable urge to just throw him out of the car, and I did it. It was like I couldn’t control my own arms and legs. He got hit by a car after I threw him out and drove off. It still scares me to think about it.

B: I totally punched this orca in the face.

C: Got a date with the cutest girl in the city 😉

C selected.

Player: “I saw this guy driving down the street in this nice car, and something just came over me. I felt the uncontrollable urge to just throw him out of the car, and I did it. It was like I couldn’t control my own arms and legs. He got hit by a car after I threw him out and drove off. It still scares me to think about it.”

C selected.

C selected.

C selected.

Shaleen: “Oh my gosh, that’s horrible. My friend told me just the other day something similar happened to him. We need to do something about it.”

A: I know just what to do.

B: You didn’t think I’d figure it out player?

C:I’m done

Short Stories

Real life has tech support

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Report # 01 for user 0790475020B: Dear big programmer person, my mommy says you can fix anything, so I should report any bugs in my life to you. I didn’t get enough presents for Christmas. All my other friends got exactly what I want. There must be a queueing problem with the Christmas.exe program. Please look into it, user 0790475020B.

Report # 16 for user 0790475020B: Hey programmer dude, things have been good, just got a little tweak for ya’. The prom.2.0.doc file is shaping up pretty sweet, there’s just one problem. My prom proposal bombed and the girl turned me down. I know you probably don’t deal a lot with these small instance problems, but if you could just go press a few buttons to make that not happen it would be sweet, user 0790475020B.

Report # 023 for user 0790475020B: Hello once again programmer person, somebody pointed out to me that my user number is automatically included in the report so I don’t need to mention it. Sorry for the redundancy, now let’s get down to brass tax. The college.lifetutorial.exe program worked great and my bachelor’s degree appears functional, but I’ve been looking for jobs for like nine months now, and my parents are really putting the pressure on me to move out. I’m sure it’s a problem with the search engines, so if you could look at the code for me I’d appreciate it.

Report # 026 for user 0790475020B: Greetings programmer person. I don’t know why I’m even writing this. You never seem to patch my problems. Now I’m having to write this during my fifteen minute break from the call center. I know you probably have an awesome job troubleshooting life, but some of us have to scrape by on the worst sort of job. You know how rude people are to cold callers? It’s pretty horrible. I can’t imagine ever doing this willingly. This can’t be right, please patch soon.

Report # 027 for user 0790475020B: Oh, and not that you care, but the girlfriend update never came through for me. So thanks for that.

Report # 029 for user 0790475020B: Programmer, more of a question than a report. Can you patch someone back into the system if they log out? If that’s true can you request to not be included in the patch? Just curious.

Report # 030: for user 0790475020B: I should probably send this to a different tech support group, but I’m sure you can just forward this to them. This is an actual software report, the spell check on my word processor is broken. It keeps autocorrecting words that aren’t meant to be corrected. It’s not a huge deal. The book that I’m writing doesn’t use the words it doesn’t like very often so I can work around it, but it’s just kind of annoying.

Report # 032: for user 0790475020B: What up programmer! Girlfriend patch finally came through! I can see you guys have been working on polishing this one up for quite some time ;). Please disregard previous complaints on this matter.

Report # 033: for user 0790475020B: Hey programmer, I know it’s been a while, I’ve been busy with my girlfriend and signing tours. Such are the struggles of life. My girl pointed out that I should probably say thanks for all the stuff you’ve put together for me recently. I can kind of see how you put me in a place where I could grow as a user into someone my girl liked, and how you gave me enough free time and motivation to start writing. I’m right where I want to be in life so I just wanted to say thanks. Seriously, thank you.

Short Stories

Immortality

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Immortality, it’s such a strong word. It summons up images of gods, legends, and mythical beings. It isn’t until after you’ve obtained it that you discover such comparisons are highly misleading. It’s partially because immortality doesn’t come with automatic superpowers, but it’s because those other immortal beings had one thing in common. Can you guess what it is? Friends.

Every demon, angel, elf, demi-god, and magical undying creature had others of its kind. Dragons had other dragons, even modern Christianity has the trinity because god cannot be alone. It probably makes it worthwhile, having someone or even something to share eternity with. I’ve seen empires rise and fall, oceans form and mountains rise. After you’ve been alive long enough time begins to flow differently. To me a year is as a day, and the lifetime of a human is but a summer vacation. The closest thing I have to constancy in my life is a rock.

A small chunk of gold to be specific. You see the thing with gold is that it lasts. It doesn’t tarnish or oxidize like other metals. It stays the same as the day you dug it out of the ground until you lose it or sell it. I have done neither, and now the only thing I have in my life that time doesn’t strip away is a chunk of stone.

I gain some solace from the humans I interact with, but eventually all of them will die, and I’ll be the only sentient being left. Then I’ll be faced with an impossible choice between two eternities. One to be reached by doing nothing, and one to be reached by doing what comes naturally to everyone else, dying. Side note: Way darker than I’m used to writing.

Short Stories

Feeling again

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“When was the last time you felt something? I don’t mean the last time you got cut off in traffic and swore at the other driver. I don’t mean the last time you went on a date and waited anxiously afterwards for a phone call that didn’t come. I mean really felt something. I mean had your blood pressure spike so high that you felt like you were going to pass out. I mean you seriously questioned if you were going to die. I mean really felt something. You can’t answer can you? Go to the end of the street and walk into the woods. There will be an old man waiting there. He will show you another way.”

This letter had come sandwiched between a note from my bank summarizing the last month’s activity, and the phone bill. There was no return address, and no name listed anywhere. I wanted to brush it off and trash the letter. It was probably some prank by a neighborhood kid who had learned to open my mailbox. Except it was right. I couldn’t remember the last time I had really felt something. There was probably nothing waiting for me in the woods, except maybe a kid with a squirt gun, but I was willing to risk it.

I grab a jacket and head outside. It’s getting cold out. There is snow forecasted for tomorrow. I feel a biting chill from the wind, and grab some gloves and a hat too. As I head down the street I really hope there isn’t some kid with a water balloon. You could get hypothermia from getting wet in this weather.

I reach the edge of the woods, and grit my teeth as I walk through. I expect a cold splash on the back of my at any moment. At least for the first few steps I do. Then I develop a sense of wonder at the woods. I’ve driven past them countless times on my way to work, but I’ve never actually set foot inside them before. I wonder what’s back here.

I here a splash and a cry for help ahead. Someone’s fallen into a lake of some sort. I run ahead and sure enough the trees give way to a lake, and an old man desperately splashing as he tries to stay afloat.

“Help!” He shouts again. I barely register the bridge he must’ve fallen from as I shed my jacket and dive in. He’s about fifty meters out and I’ve got to be quick. With his poor circulation he’s probably only got seconds before he starts losing toes to the cold.

Burn me is this water freezing! I involuntarily stop breathing as the water feels like it’s choking me, trying to force itself into my lungs, but I was a lifeguard in my youth, and resiliently begin to stroke my way out to the old man.

I’m about ten meters away when his head ducks under. Oh no, the water’s deep. If he falls very far I’ll never be able to catch him, and if he inhales any water it’ll damage his lungs for sure. I desperately close the distance to the epicenter of his ripples, and dive down. I close my eyes and blindly feel for something. My hands brush aside algae that has been growing in the stagnant water, nothing. How could he have sunk so far?

I kick with my legs to propel myself even further down. He’s been under twenty seconds at this point. Seriously, were there rocks in his pockets? Come on old man, give me something.

He’s been under almost forty seconds, and my own lungs are starting to burn. My body tries to reflexively breathe in the surrounding water and I’m choking out bubbles. I take one last searching swipe with my arms, and brush a coat. The old man!

I loop an arm under his shoulder and start stroking furiously. He’s been under almost a full minute, and I can’t tell if he’s unconscious and therefore drowning. He’s limp in my arms. It doesn’t look good.

We break the surface and I kick like crazy for the shore. I tilt his head back and out of the water. His eyes are closed and there’s water dripping from his mouth. Not good signs.

I pull him onto the shore. Okay, ABCs. Airway, breathing circulates, clearly his airway is blocked by water. I find his sternum and start compressing. Water starts ejecting from his mouth in spurts. Clearly still clogged, keep compressing. I think I feel something crack. He’s going to have some broken ribs.

He coughs violently and sits up. Oh thank god. I thought I had just pulled a corpse out of the water. I grab my phone and dial 911. As I’m informing the dispatcher where I am and what I need the old man reaches into his jacket and pulls out a letter that appears to be water proofed somehow.  What on earth?

I thank the dispatcher and hang up.

“Ambulance is coming. You’re going to be fine.” I tell the old man. He continues to cough and gestures for me to open the letter. Really confused, I open the letter. Inside is a piece of paper with a single sentence.

“Well done, await further instructions.”

Short Stories

Perchance to fix a quick mistake

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“Perchance to fix a quick mistake, or pass over a terrifying moment of fate. To choose only one is your assigned task. Either jump to the future, or relive the past.”

It was a mysterious sounding rhyme, and I wasn’t sure I should take it seriously or not. I was combing through my attic when I had found the watch with the cryptic inscription. There was a note attached to it explaining the rhyme.

DO NOT TOUCH THE WATCH UNTIL YOU’VE FINISHED READING THIS NOTE! On the side of the watch is a dial. You can turn it clockwise until it clicks to set it to jumping forward in time, or you can click it once counterclockwise to set it to jumping backward in time. Be warned, once you set the watch, it will stay on that setting until you die. The period it jumps you either forward or backward is ten seconds. The watch needs about a minute to recharge between jumps. To activate, just tap the dial. Choose wisely.

Huh, clicking it backwards would allow me to fix some small mistakes in life, but clicking it forwards would allow me to skip the truly harrowing moments. I heard someone say that many great things are accomplished with just 15 seconds of pure courage. With this I watch I could have at least ten of those seconds. I could be infinitely brave for those ten seconds. I could live with making mistakes. Now I could skip all of the truly scary moments in life! I click the watch clockwise, and test it out. I throw a little ball in the air and tap the dial

It works. I have a small bruise on my head, and the ball has rolled to the other side of the attic. I didn’t feel the impact at all. The residual pain yes, but not the impact. This is going to be so useful for my date tonight!

Three hours later me and Jenna are sitting on a park bench. The sun is setting, my arm is around her, and the mood is right. The only problem is I’m as nervous as a moose at an NRA convention. Thankfully I’ve got the cure to my nervousness on my wrist. I tap her on the shoulder to turn towards me. As she looks me in the eye I tap the nob.

“You know I see you more as a friend.” She says.

Short Stories

The last french fry

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“Alright, you guys have twenty minutes to grab any souvenirs of civilization before we pack it out of here. They’ll be coming soon and we need to be gone when they do.” My bug out crew had made a decision to come back. We had all met at the agreed upon panic location when the bombs had started going off. Thousands of nuclear bombs made in secret under false pretense had been distributed by a very sophisticated group.

The one in this mall had been disarmed by some off duty navy SEAL explosive technician. It was a lucky twist of fate that left one of the only standing monuments to western culture in a hundred miles. My crew had heard about in on the radio on our way out. It was currently being swarmed over by scavengers, but if you carried enough guns and went in packs, the bad ones would leave you alone.

I buddied up with my childhood friend Eric. Him and me had been hanging out since middle school, almost ten years now. So many nights staying up late talking about life. So many adventures out into the wilderness. It was there we had met the people who would eventually become our bug out crew. Yeah, me and Eric had a lot of good memories. It was fitting we would get to share our last memory of what life was like before the fall together.

“So where do you want to go mate?” He asks me. The mall’s big, so we only really have time to hit one last location. I’m glad he’s given me the choice. I know exactly where should go.

“The burger joint on the north end.” Eric nods approvingly. Every time we had stayed up late, or headed out on an adventure, we had stopped here for food. Every time we came Eric always got the fries, and I got the onion rings. It had been a friendly game for us. Each of us swearing that we had made the best choice, and each of us refusing to taste the others dish as a matter of pride. We would have time for one last meal before the apocalypse closed in around us.

We break into the kitchen to find it’s picked clean, except for one french fry and one onion ring sitting next to the frier. They’re a little mushed, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Eric picks up the onion ring and gives it a whiff. “To memories” He says. I pick up the french fry and answer his toast.

“To memories.” I say, and we take our last bite of civilization together.

Short Stories

Christopher Robin introduces his fiance to Pooh and Piglet

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Chapter 22: In which another Christopher Robin comes to the forest, and we….

“You know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding Christopher.” Diane teased me.

“It only counts if it’s after midnight, now come on. We’re meeting them at this bridge.” Christopher Robin and Diane Silvereye arrived at the wooden bridge which crossed the lazy river, and lifted her onto the highest wooden railing.

“Who are we meeting?” Diane asked.

“You’ll see in just a moment. They probably stopped by to see some other friends on the way over. You might meet them later.” Christopher Robin leaned over the edge of the bridge and looked down at sticks passing under the bridge.

“It seems odd to be meeting them now.” Janet commented. “Do you not bring these friends round much?”

“Well, I bring them around to certain people, but not everyone understands about friends like this. So it’s only the right people who get to meet them.” Christopher said.

“And you had to be sure that I was the right person that you waited until the day before our wedding?” Diane asked.

“Yes. It’s rather important.” Christopher said.

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Diane assured him, giving him a peck on the cheek. Encouraged by this Christopher walked over to the edge of the bridge. He picked up a toy bear stuffed with sawdust, and a smaller pig-like doll that seemed to be made in a similar manner. He set them down on the bridge next to each other, and walked back to stand next to Diane.

Diane was confused. The dolls looked familiar, but they were so old she couldn’t tell what they were supposed to be. Christopher looked nervous as he walked back, like he wasn’t sure if the bridge might fall out from under him at any moment. She hadn’t seem him like this since the first date. He hadn’t even looked like this when he had asked her to marry him.

Christopher turned to face the two dolls, and tried his best to smile and wave.

“Hello Pooh, hello Piglet. Nice day for a game of pooh sticks isn’t it?” Oh, they were a Winnie the Pooh doll, and a Piglet doll. It couldn’t be. Could it? They had always joked about his name being the same one from the book, and the dolls did look old enough.

Christopher Robin adopted first a low rumbly voice. He was starting to sweat. “Hello Christopher Robin, it is a lovely day. The creek is in a friendly sort of mood. Just the right sort of mood for pooh sticks.” Christopher now switched to a hi squeaky voice. “Yes Christopher robin, a most lovely sort of day indeed. We met owl on the way over and he was just telling us what a grand day for pooh sticks.”

Christopher glanced nervously at Diane, and she looked first from him, and then to the dolls. It was her turn to speak. She kicked her legs nervously against the bridge and waved back to them. Unsure how to proceed.

“Hello Pooh and Piglet.”

“Hello Diane.” Christopher robin responded in a low squeaky voice. Well, mostly low and squeaky. His voice cracked at the beginning of the word Diane. It had been a while since Christopher and Diane had a awkward moment

Then a breeze passed through. It was not a strong breeze. Diane barely felt it, but it was just enough to pick up the ears on the two animals and make them twitch around a bit. Then, suddenly, Diane understood what to do.

She hopped off the bridge smiling, and went over to shake the hand of the Pooh doll.

“Oh I’m sorry for being awkward Pooh. It’s been a frightfully exciting day. Can you tell me what’s all this about Pooh sticks?” She heard Christopher Robin take a breath behind her to respond, but she didn’t let him. In her best rumbly voice Diane responded.

“Oh you’ll love it Diane. Me and Christopher Robin play all the time. Eyeore’s the best, but I invented it right on this very bridge.”

“Did you now Pooh?” Diane asked Pooh in her regular voice.

“Oh yes Diane. It was on a day like this that I was wondering about carrying some fir cones. Here there are just a few over there.” Diane then picked up the doll and went over to grab a few fir cones and put them in the dolls hands.

“And I stumbled and watched them splash into the stream. I was sad because they were such nice fir cones. Then, then what happened next Piglet? I’ve got a bit of fluff in my brain just now.”

Christopher piped up in his squeaky voice.

“Then we played Pooh sticks Pooh. Here, let’s show Diane how to play.” Piglet then dashed off into the woods to grab some fir cones to show Christopher Robin’s new friend.

Pooh and Piglet then stood by the side of the bridge and counted to three before dropping the fir cones in. They explained to Diane that sticks worked better, but fir cones would do just fine for now.

Diane cheered eagerly as Piglet’s cone came out first. Piglet was a small sort of animal that didn’t get to win many games, so it was good that he had this little game to himself. All four of them then went about collecting sticks and throwing them into the creek to see whose would come out first.

They played many games until the sun started to sink, and Piglet had to go pick some haycorns for dinner.

“Pooh, would you come with me and Diane for a moment?” Christopher asked Pooh.

“Of course.” Pooh told Christopher Robin. The three of them then walked to the enchanted spot at the top of the forest where you could never tell if there were 67 pine trees or 68. They sat down in a familiar space, and looked out at the trees as the sun set.

“Pooh you remember the last time we sat here?” Christopher Robin asked.

“Yes Christopher Robin. I told you that if you lived to be 100. I wanted to live to be 100 minus 1 day so that I would never have to live a day without you.”

“Well now Pooh.” Christopher Robin said. “Now you’re going to have to live be to 100 minus 2, because Diane is going to live to be 100, and I can’t live a day without her.”

Short Stories

Not your average school shooting

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Because of the somewhat sensitive nature of this story I’m going to post one of my favorite pictures to lighten the mood, instead of one that represents what the story is about.

“Everybody on the ground!” The troubled kid from calculus shouted. He didn’t need to ask twice. We all dove under our desks in the class room faster than gravity could have dropped us.

“What is he doing?” I whispered to my classmate Jason. We sat towards the back so I didn’t think the shooter could hear us. “And where did he get that rifle?” The shooter was directing the teacher to lock the door, and then forced her to the back of the class.

“I don’t know Thomas.” Jason whispered back. “His parents hate guns. He for sure didn’t get it from them.”

“Enough chit chat!” He shouted again. “Cell phones out and shove them up front. There’s twenty two of you, and I can count!” I took out my phone and hoped one of my classmates had called the police. I felt bad that I had chosen to talk instead of make the call.

“Everybody listen up!” He shouted.

“Did you call the police?” I whisper to Jason.

“I said listen up!” He yelled again. “I finally get a chance to speak, and nobody’s going to stop me. Thomas!” The name hit me like a shot from his gun. “Quit running your mouth and get up here!”

I appreciated how quite it was as I walked towards the front of the class. No one said a word. There had been no alarm sounded, and as far as I could hear, no police had called. Or at least, if they were called, they wouldn’t get here in time.

“On your knees Thomas!” The shooter shouted. I drop to my knees as he raises the gun.

“I’m going to make sure everybody remembers this day. Starting with you.” He had been shouting up until this point, but these words were said in a whisper.

“You haven’t chambered a round dummy.” I say. He looks to the side of his gun to see what I’m talking about. In that brief second I knock the gun away from my forehead, and stand up quickly, using my head to bash him in the jaw. Then punch him just below the sternum to drop him to the floor. I put my foot on his throat and grab the rifle out of his hands.

“Next time you steal a gun.” I tell him. “Make sure the chamber’s open.” He can’t respond because he can’t breathe properly at the moment, but I can tell that my point has been made.

A couple of my classmates flip him over and pin his arms behind his back. I break down the rifle and hand it to the teacher.

“I’ll get this to the principle at once.” She says.

“No.” I tell her. “We can’t give him any publicity. That’s what he wants. He was dying to get some attention from this. We can’t give him that. Give me three of the football players a pass to escort him to the parking lot, and call the police. I’ll stow the rifle in my bag as evidence. Quickly, quietly, no one hears a word of this.”