Quick reads you can finish in 10-30 minutes
Found 1964 short novels
I remember the morning the whole market fell silent because someone shouted, “The little tyrant is coming.” I remember how people scattered like leaves and how one old man shuffled along, shaking his head like a bell. I remember thinking, in a soldier’s way, that a city that panicked at a rumor had worse enemies than any border tribe. I remember then that I was the one they whispered about. “My name is Fisher Owens,” I said one day to myself in the glassed mirror of my room, and the name...
I still remember the day Donovan asked me to “get engaged.” "I thought it would be funny," he said, his voice flat, like he was reading a text message out loud. "Funny?" I touched the cold silver ring he slid onto my finger that night. "This is a joke?" He laughed. "It was a prize, Chiyo. I thought we'd laugh about it later." "I don't want a joke," I said. "There you go being dramatic again," Donovan shrugged. "Girls have to be more coy. You can't be the one to say these...
I did not expect a necklace to decide the rest of my life. "Open it," Bear said, his voice cool as the glass between us. "I am opening it," I said, and I pretended my hands were steady when my fingers trembled. He watched me slide the tiny velvet box open. The sapphire lay inside like a small midnight sea, deep and sharp. It had been the thing we had argued about at the auction, the thing I had wanted because I wanted to be seen as someone worth a devotion, not as someone's safe, small...
I first noticed him the day I almost fell into the courtyard fountain. "Hold on—don't let go," a voice said, flat and steady. A pair of hands closed around my wrists. I looked up and the world rearranged: sharp jawline, clear eyes, a wind that smelled faintly of cold lemon. He didn't smile. He simply steadied me. "Thanks," I said. "No problem," he answered, and then turned away as if it had been nothing. They all called him Denver Fontaine. I should have known then that a quiet...
"I pulled her up and my hands went cold." "I need the phone," a villager said. "Give it back," I said, but they took it and walked away. I stood with a wet sleeve in my hands and a dead girl's hair in my palm. Her red jacket stuck to her like a flag. Her face was swollen white and blue. Her legs were bare. The water had carried her toward me, and she had come against the current, moving like someone walking back toward life. "She's one of ours?" someone asked. "No." I didn't...
I liked to think I knew how to read people. I had worked five years in administration in Beijing, handled office politics and paperwork, and believed I could tell truth from charm. I thought I married a man who believed in logic and fairness. His name was Alexander Cannon, and I loved him. I loved how he listened, how he consulted me when he bought small things, how he joked with me in that soft, earnest way. I called him my reasoning partner, my little philosopher. But one month after our...
I carried him through the snow. "It is heavy." I said nothing else, because the city had already turned its face. Snow fell in deep, soft sheets and hid my footprints as if it would hide the world’s opinion of us both. "Do not let go," I told the corpse, though I did not know if he could hear. My fingers had stopped feeling because the cold wanted everything and gave nothing back. They said the snow was a good omen. "A good harvest," the town criers shouted on the warm days before the...
I never thought a single blank exam paper could change everything. I folded mine with casual amusement and handed it in like it was a dare. I thought my father's money would always be a parachute. I thought I could play with fate. "Got you a taxi, Kynlee," the driver said as I closed the test center door. "No, thanks," I told him, and I walked out into a life I had never learned to live. The first night outside my family's house, I discovered the small mercies I'd always ignored. I...
"I saw her with my baby—stop her!" I shouted until my throat hurt. "Casey, calm down," Gabriel said, his hand on my back. His voice was soft but his eyes were hard. "Tell me what happened." "She took her," I cried. "Lainey—my sister-in-law—took Mian and ran." Gabriel's face went white. He fumbled for his coat and limped toward the yard. His leg was still raw from the fire. I clutched the thin blanket and the hollow ache in my chest like a new wound. "Where did she go?" Ford...
I woke to sun on glass and the sharp, distant scream of brakes that never caught up. "Watch the children," someone shouted. "Move them—now!" "I can't!" a teacher cried. "There's a car—" The red sports car came like a dare. I still smelled hot rubber in my dream. Then a black sedan slammed out in front of it, metal screaming; the world folded into a staccato silence. When I blinked, I was on a hospital bed, my arms wrapped, my skin a map of pain. "You're alive," the voice said—flat,...
I tasted metal when the knife's cold edge brushed my cheek, and for a moment the world narrowed into the thin bright line of pain. The room smelled like old wine and fresh blood, and the voices around me were as careless as gutter water. "Is she still out?" a woman's voice asked. It was soft but cruel. "She hasn't woken, Second Miss," another sneered. "Probably won't. Always weak like her mother." "Useless," the first laughed. "Just a few beatings and she collapses. I only want to ruin...
I woke to a voice that crawled under my skin. "What's wrong? You still want to play with the idea?" he said, low and rough. The sound of it hit me harder than a slap. I froze. The name that rose in my throat felt like a rusted key turning: Hudson Daniels. I remembered the night. I remembered everything down to the ache in my bones. I remembered the way it ended last time. I remembered the promise that never got kept. My heart lurched. I had been given a second chance. I had been...
"I owe rent and dignity," I said to my reflection, holding a pocket pudding like a tiny, sad trophy. "Then stop buying pudding," Journee said over the phone, voice bright. "Or go seduce your landlord's son. He's ridiculous—tall, model legs, peak cheekbones, and his dad owns the building. Live rent-free. Think of the Instagram." "I don't think about Instagram," I muttered, one eyebrow raised at my own mirror image. "I think about electricity bills." "I mean, do you want me to set up a...
I never expected rescuing a stray could change my whole life. "It bit me," I said into the dark, rubbing the hand that still stung. "It was supposed to be a dog." "It wasn't a dog," the voice above me said, amused and dangerous. "And you are certainly not allowed to do that." I blinked awake to a face too pretty for midnight and a hand that felt like an accusation. The man—no, the creature—had hair that caught the moon and eyes sharp as almond pits. He sat on my couch like he owned the...
I woke up to a voice I didn't recognize, and a countdown over my head. "Supplies ready, start purchasing. One hundred million allocated — one hour on the clock," the voice said, calm and matter-of-fact. I sat bolt upright and laughed at myself. "What is this, a video game?" I muttered, then the scene changed and the sky above a huge supermarket opened like a theater curtain, a digital clock blinking down. I reached out and the world obeyed me. "Buy food," I told myself. "Start with...
"I hit send," I say, and my hands keep shaking. "I knew you would," Kori says on the other end of the line, laughing too loud. "You always do." "I don't feel like laughing," I whisper. "Then don't. Just do it." I press the final message, then close my phone. The screen goes black. The hotel room is quiet except for the air conditioner. I pull the blanket up to my chin and remember how it started — a keyboard, a tired voice, a promise to listen. "Why did you leave your window...
"I promised you ice cream after the exams," I said to myself like a spell as I walked into the supermarket with Drew. Drew Peters—my older brother—was carrying himself like the king of thrift today, a lollipop stuck in the corner of his mouth, as if that would hide the fact he was counting his coins with his eyes. "Take whatever you like," he said, more loudly than necessary. "Really?" I answered, already running down the frozen aisle. Drew rolled his eyes. "Don't go for the fancy...
"I'm not dead!" I screamed into wood. "Shh—quiet!" a man's voice hissed outside. "She will hear." I banged the coffin lid again. Nails scraped. Dust fell. "Listen to me," I said. "Open it. I'm a living person. Open!" Silence. Then muffled footsteps. Then the sound of a carriage or people moving. I tasted dirt and old paint. My fingers found something cold and flat—what I expected to be a night light was a plank. I forced my knees up. The coffin answered with a dull groan. I...
I had worn the black cap so long it had become part of my face. People called me cruel nicknames like "mystery choreographer" or "the quiet champion," but I only wanted my steps to speak. I was Marie Guzman, and when the airport glare hit the brim of my hat that day, I did not expect to meet Elden Santiago. "Is this your luggage?" he asked, voice low and tired, as if sleep were a uniform he wore all the time. "It isn't mine," I said. "You should check the tag." Wade Floyd, his...
I was fifteen the year they brought me through the palace gate. "My daughter must be careful," my mother had whispered as they braided my hair. "Speech is a blade in a strange court. Do not wave it." "You will not starve," my father had said, forcing a brave face. "This is safer than the markets." I had not wanted glory. I had wanted a small life: a courtyard where beans could be planted, a dog at my feet, the smell of stew in the evening. I got a courtyard, a small dog, and...
