Welcome to Slap a Story - a short story social network!


Slap a Story is a place for people like you and me: for people who like to read and write. Submit your original short story (heck, you can do it anonymously) for everyone to read and discuss. As well as vote and comment on stories submitted by others.

So go ahead, start writing and let your creative juices flow.

Popular Stories | Page 2

The Transformation of Nathanial Black pt2

Horror and Humour
9 votes

I stood there looking on in awe at the complete and utter destruction of the room that went all the way up to the roof of the house and most likely the blocked off room upstairs. With this thought bouncing around in my head I hurriedly shut the door, and as I turned to leave heard something behind me break. I didn't take the time to see what it was but hurried up the stairs instead to check on ...

The Café

10 votes

The breeze from the door ruffled my blonde curly hair, dangling below my shoulders. I looked up with the slightest hope it was him stepping through the door. It wasn't; just another customer approaching me, with a fake end-of-the day smile, wanting their afternoon coffee. Yes, you guessed right. I was a coffee girl working as usual, all day six days a week in a small cafe off Queens St. W...


11 votes

“And the winner of the Gene Bautista annual poetry prizes is …….” With this announcement the hearts of thousands of creatures present in the huge garden started pounding at their double rates. Oh, did I just say creatures, well yes, that’s because amidst the audience were some hundred odd people along with numerous tiny mosquitoes, some birds and other loca...

The dream

Fantasy and Romance
9 votes

It was almost morning. The sun's rays shining with shy light. Traders have already begun setting up their stalls. A stray dog was kicked in the ass by the Blue dragon Inn Keeper. The dog barked in mid-air and ran away when the inn keeper chased him. "Stupid dog" said the Inn keeper as he un-mounted the bulls-eye oil lamp that hung above the inn sign.Back upstairs, In a fine cozy room, no...

The Man who called Hope "A dying art".

El Cid
8 votes

Walking is an abstract thing; a projection of purpose and desire -a multi-layered portrait of the human condition. It's the troubled man's soul mate. I'm walking right now -aimlessly albeit; but there is a modernist beauty in 'f*ck all'- away from the repercussions of my handiwork -with a wry smile on my face, a shriek shocking my bones and an ironic twist the spokesperson of my countenance. Welco...

Just friends...

6 votes

It's not hard to be "just friends" with the girl you truly love. That is, if you have excellent self control. (Which is, by the way, as common as sky blue pandas.) You really need the self control... You need it every time you see her walking towards you, with a half smile on her beautiful face. She is wearing her bag across her shoulder. It nearly comes down up to her knees. You hate it...

Toys, Chocolates and a Cake

5 votes

As she walked past the toys shop next to the big China Bazaar, she could not but stop herself from having a look into the magical world stitched in fur, assembled in plastic and wood and drawn from the colorful strands of clay. She had never entered the shop and always just stood outside and wondered if these toys do get alive behind closed doors and switched off lights. The of how things which br...

Pumping Up Napoleon

Maria Donovan
10 votes

That summer Napoleon Bonaparte started wearing shorts, which made Marjorie Campbell question her feelings for him. In her opinion only very good legs should risk exposure in an urban setting - and even then ... Besides, and disappointingly, of the bare parts of Napoleon she'd seen so far, his legs were the least attractive: a dirty grey colour, mottled with blue; knees like dried porridge. &n...

Crazy night

Fantasy and Horror
8 votes

"What poor soul has the misfortune of interrupting my feeding?" asked Sebastion sniffing. He was on his stance, ready to attack with great acceleration as soon as he spots the source on this misty corner of the town. "The one who shares your thirst, and your curse", said the stranger. Sebastion looked both ways, but he had a gut feeling that there was something in front of him....

Icarus (A trust betrayed?)

7 votes

Innocent Icarus wings tipped in gold,Yearns towards an impossible goal.Seeing the glory of fiery desire,Blind his he to the heat of the fire. Trusting that such beauty could bring no pain,He forces his wings to resist the strain.He pummels arms trussed in feathers and steel,Knowing how the mighty eagles must feel. He looks and sees his father far below and away,Shouting the danger of the fiery dis...

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