Short Story
The Golden Prince and the Swallow of Sorrows. Content Warning.
Long ago, in a peaceful kingdom, there lived a kind and noble king. He had only one son — the prince — a boy so full of charm, grace, and happiness that the people lovingly called him “The Happy Prince.”
By Md Shahiduzzaman2 years ago in Fiction
The Hidden Island of Jellybean Bay
It all began on a sunny afternoon when Max, his little sister Lila, and their best friend Finn were digging for shells on Cottonwhip Beach. The sun made everything sparkle like sugar dust and the waves whispered secrets at low tide. That’s when Max’s shovel hit something hard. **Clunk! ** He removed the sand with a brush and found an old glass bottle. A sticky red jellybean was stuck to the corner of the crinkled parchment that was inside, and the writing was swirly. Max read aloud: **“To those with a sweet tooth and a brave heart—follow the candy trail to where the jellybeans shine bright. X marks the sugar.” ** A hand-drawn map and a jellybean-shaped island were at the bottom. Lila gasped. “Is this a treasure map?!” Finn squinted. “I think it’s pointing to Jellybean Bay… but that place isn’t even on normal maps.” “That’s because it’s hidden,” said Max with a grin. “And I say we find it.” --- Snacks, binoculars, and a compass that barely worked were all packed by the trio. They borrowed Grandpa’s old paddle boat, painted like a candy cane, and set off before the tide turned. While they were traveling, strange things started to appear in the calm ocean. They passed **a school of rainbow fish**, who swam in the shape of an arrow. They saw **floating marshmallow buoys**, each marked with a candy symbol: a jellybean, a licorice whip, a chocolate coin. After that, fog. Thick, pink fog that smelled exactly like bubblegum. “I think we’re close,” said Lila, gripping the map. When the fog cleared, there it was. **Jellybean Bay. ** An island that shimmered with color. Trees with bark made of taffy. The ground cracked like graham crackers. Fizzy pop flowing through the streams. The air was filled with the sweet scent of fruit chews and chocolate. Finn whispered, "Whoa." "It's true." --- As they stepped onto the shore, the jellybean stuck to the map lit up, glowing like a tiny ruby. “It’s a clue,” said Max. "We must follow the glowing jellybeans," they say. Sure enough, glowing jellybeans were hidden in odd places: beneath gumdrop bushes, inside caramel coconuts, and even stuck to a lollipop sign pointing into the forest. The kids followed the candy trail over licorice log bridges and through cotton candy grass. At one point, they had to cross a **jelly trampoline field**, where every step bounced them a little higher. “I could live here forever,” Lila giggled as she flipped into a pile of marshmallow fluff. But then... they heard something. **“Crunch… crunch… ARR!” ** A group of "Rainbow Pirates" emerged from behind a rock candy boulder, each wearing swirly-colored clothing, peg legs made of candy canes, and jellybean blasters fastened to their belts. “Newcomers, eh?” growled Captain Gumdrop, a round pirate with a caramel beard. “You think ye can waltz in and find the Sweet Treasure?” Max held out the glowing jellybean. “We’re following the map. We didn’t mean any harm.” Captain Gumdrop eyed it, then laughed. "Well, you have guts. And maybe… maybe you’re worthy.” The pirates parted when he waved his hand, revealing a dark passage beneath a toffee hill. “The final test lies within,” said the captain. “Only those with clever minds and kind hearts find the treasure.” --- The kids entered the tunnel. Sugar-glass-glowing walls and riddles written in rhyme adorned the interior. **“To open the door, tell us what’s sweet, but never melts in the sun’s great heat.” ** Lila cheered. “A smile!” The door slid open with a musical *ding*. They solved more riddles, shared candy with a lonely gummy bear troll, and helped a grumpy gumdrop dragon find her missing baby (who was stuck in a caramel puddle). Finally, they reached a glowing cavern where a single chest sat atop a pedestal made of jellybeans. Max opened it. Inside wasn’t gold. It wasn’t even candy. It was merely a book. ** **“The Sweetest Secret,”** read the title. When they opened it, the pages were empty—until glowing words began to appear: > **“The real treasure isn’t gold or jewels, but the joy of adventure, the breaking of rules. The sweetness of laughter, friendship and cheer, That’s the magic that brought you here.” ** The chest's jellybeans began to glow as they smiled. The whole cavern lit up, filling their hearts with warmth and wonder. --- The Rainbow Pirates cheered as they emerged. Captain Gumdrop handed each of them a **Candy Compass**, which always pointed toward the next adventure. He gave her a wink and said, "You've earned it." With full hearts, sticky fingers, and the greatest story anyone could have ever imagined, the kids made it home safely. And though they could never find Jellybean Bay again on a map, sometimes, when the tide was just right and the wind carried a scent of sugar… They could hear the soft *ding* of a candy bell calling them back.
By Little Dream Stories2 years ago in Fiction
The Clocktower Cat Who Knew the Time
In the heart of the cozy little town of Uckfield stood a tall, old clock tower. It had been there ever since anyone could remember, its bells ringing at the top of every hour, its gears turning, and its hands moving. However, most people were unaware that there was a guardian on the clock tower. I do not make watches. Not a wizard. A cat. Tock was his name. Tock was not your typical feline. He had golden fur with dark swirls like clock hands and eyes the color of polished brass. He didn’t chase mice or nap in sunbeams. Instead, he was aware of every gear clunk, every pendulum tick, and, most importantly, every second. Tock could feel time. When it sped off. When it was slow. When something wasn’t quite right. He had one job: make sure the town’s time ran smoothly. --- To get their day started, the residents of Tickfield looked up at the clock tower. According to the tower's time, stores opened, school bells rang, and train whistles blew. But one chilly autumn evening, something changed. Tock was cleaning his paws on the clocktower's highest ledge when he felt an odd vibration in the gears beneath his feet. The second hand twitched. The minute hand froze… then jerked forward. Tock narrowed his eyes. **Something was wrong with time. ** --- He dashed down into the clock’s inner chambers—leaping over swinging pendulums and weaving through spinning cogs. Deep inside, he found a glimmer of silvery dust swirling in the air like smoke. “Chrono-dust…” he meowed softly. "However, that hasn't been seen in 100 years." Time seemed to come to an end at its most recent appearance. Tock sniffed the air and followed the shimmering trail out of the clocktower, onto the rooftops, and through the quiet streets of Tickfield. The trail led him to an old shop on the edge of town: "Whibble & Wobble's Oddities & Watches" The sign creaked in the wind. For many years, the shop had been closed. Tock slipped inside through a cracked window. Inside, clocks of all shapes and sizes lined the walls—cuckoo clocks, pocket watches, even hourglasses filled with glittering sand. A boy stood in the middle of the room. He looked about ten, with messy hair and big round glasses. He was holding a glowing silver stopwatch and wore a long coat that was too big for him. He hadn’t noticed Tock yet. “I just wanted to slow time down,” the boy whispered to himself. “Just a little. so I wouldn't be late once more." Tock padded forward silently and let out a loud, commanding *meow*. The boy jumped. “Wha—? Who are you?” Tock tilted his head. The boy understood even though he could not speak humanly. “You’ve meddled with the seconds,” Tock seemed to say with his gaze. “Time is fragile.” The boy gulped. I did not intend to. I found this watch in my grandfather’s trunk. It said ‘Property of Tickfield’s Timekeeper.’ I assumed it was just an old toy...” Tock looked at the watch. The gears inside were spinning too fast, glowing with unstable energy. If not stopped, time would unravel completely. --- Just then, all the clocks in the shop struck midnight—even though it was only 8:47. The bells clanged wildly. Time was breaking. Tock yowled and leaped onto the counter, nudging the stopwatch from the boy’s hands. With a clink and a flash, it landed, and then everything stopped. Not completely. But almost. People moved like molasses outside. Leaves hung mid-air. A raindrop hovered, shimmering just above the ground. “We have until the real midnight,” the boy said, looking at the flickering hands on a nearby grandfather clock. “Then time snaps like a rubber band.” Tock gave a decisive nod. They needed to reset the town’s Master Clock—the massive mechanism buried beneath the tower. The boy, whose name was Theo, followed Tock as they raced through the slowed-down town. It was eerie seeing everything frozen in half-motion, but there was no time to stop. They reached the base of the tower, opened the hidden hatch, and crawled into the clock’s heart—a maze of levers, gears, and glowing threads of time. At the center stood the **Time Core**—a pulsing orb of golden light. It flickered. Dimmed. Flickered again. Theo handed Tock the stopwatch. “It needs a jump. A rush of time for cleaning. Tock carefully and precisely pawed at the watch. He twisted its dial with his claw and pressed the crown. A wave of golden light shot from the watch into the Time Core. **WHIR** The gears snapped into place. The pendulums swung smoothly. The ticking returned—steady, strong, alive. Outside, everything moved again. Time was secure. --- Theo took a look at the watch he was holding. “I shouldn’t keep this, should I?” Tock purred and gave a soft head-butt. Some things have a place of origin. Together, they locked the watch back into the shop’s vault, sealing it behind an iron door marked “Tick With Care.” --- Theo was Tock's apprentice from that point on. And while the people of Uckfield continued checking the clocktower each morning, they never knew that high above them, a golden-eyed cat and a clever boy kept time ticking true. Because sometimes, the most important heroes… are the ones who work quietly behind the scenes. And occasionally take a nap in the sun.
By Little Dream Stories2 years ago in Fiction
Midnight Moon, Empty Heart
The night air carried a chill that crept into the bones. It was past midnight, and the world had fallen silent. Streetlights flickered in the distance, and the countryside around the small town of Ridgefield lay quiet under the glow of the full moon.
By Think & Learn2 years ago in Fiction
The Unbreakable Bond
Prologue: The Promise "Some bonds are written in the stars—others are forged in fire." The first time James saw Max, the German Shepherd was a mangy, half-starved stray lurking outside his Army barracks in Afghanistan. Most soldiers ignored the skittish dog, but James—a medic with a soft spot for broken things—left out a plate of lamb kebabs from the mess hall.
By M Idrees khan2 years ago in Fiction
The Charioteer's Dilemma
It was a bright sunny morning of wintry December. The cool breeze, with sun rays escaping through the shredded autumn leaves, made the weather overtly pleasant as I rode my motorcycle through the countryside. My mission being to visit a colleague who lived far from the hustle and bustle of the city in a small village on the outskirts. As I reached his house, there were no doorbells, but an announcement by the kids playing around, "Kaki, there is someone on a Splendor."
By Swaran Singh Bala 2 years ago in Fiction
Our Neighborhood’s Group Chat Went Viral… Now We’re All Suspects in a ‘Who Ate Karen’s Quiche?’ Mystery
It began, as all modern tragedies do, with a text message. Karen Parkins, president of the Maplewood Culinary Beautification Committee (and self-appointed guardian of all things “artisanal”), had spent three days crafting her infamous caramelized-onion-and-gruyère quiche for the neighborhood potluck. She’d even Instagrammed it mid-bake with the caption, “When your crust is flakier than your ex’s promises. 💅” But when she arrived at the community center, the quiche was gone. All that remained was a lone spinach fleck and a note: “Sorry! 😬” written in Comic Sans on a Post-It.
By Ian Sankan2 years ago in Fiction
A Flight
"Do you like the female British voice or the male Aussie? I can click this button and change it." "It will confuse the passengers and make them anxious. Choose ONE and stick to it!" Marsha was co-piloting with Brad and tired of his antics. An error in scheduling had resulted in her being called up for the flight.
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Fiction
I Accidentally Stole a Celebrity's Dog—And Ended Up on a Reality Show
You ever do something so ridiculous you wonder if the universe just handed you a script from a comedy film? It started on a warm Wednesday afternoon in Los Angeles, the kind of day when even your iced coffee seems to sweat. I’d just gotten fired (well, “let go” — corporate-speak for don’t come back), and I figured I deserved a walk through Runyon Canyon to clear my head. New city, fresh unemployment, and too much time to think.
By Jatin bikash Chakma2 years ago in Fiction
