I stared at the computer screen, the recipe for blueberry cobbler staring back at me as my daughter’s voice, plaintive as a puppy’s whine, pleaded, “Please, Mom, why can’t I go?
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here are ghosts on the Underground.You don’t notice them because they look just like you, or a ticket inspector. They clutch their lost life as
It is very seldom that mere ordinary people like John and myself secure ancestral halls for the summer.
A colonial mansion, a hereditary estate, I would say a haunted house, and reach the height of romantic felicity—but that would be asking too much of fate!
The man with the white face entered the carriage at Rugby. He moved slowly in spite of the urgency of his porter, and even while he was still on the platform I noted how ill he seemed. He dropped into the corner over against me with a sigh, made an incomplete attempt to arrange his […]
Probably you have heard of Hapley—not W. T. Hapley, the son, but the celebrated Hapley, the Hapley of Periplaneta Hapliia, Hapley the entomologist. If so you know at least of the great feud between Hapley and Professor Pawkins, though certain of its consequences may be new to you. For those who have not, a word […]
And after all the weather was ideal. They could not have had a more perfect day for a garden-party if they had ordered it. Windless, warm, the sky without a cloud. Only the blue was veiled with a haze of light gold, as it is sometimes in early summer. The gardener had been up […]
At the ripe age of 21, Ariel lives in failure of that first step. She’s filing papers now, an administrative assistant at the Dropbox headquarters in the heart of Silicon Valley. She watches the computer engineers check in and out behind the front desk on the third floor, and all day this plagues her with a sense of inadequacy. She thinks about her upbringing in an upper-middle class
“O. Henry” was the pen name adopted by William Sydney Porter. He began his short story career by contributing Whistling Dick’s Christmas Stocking to McClure’s Magazine in 1899.
Garret has a head cold. Naturally he’s in a foul mood. His world has stopped
She had finally done it. She had become a cantankerous old lady.