Short Stories

[cubist]

Despite the fact that I usually read novels, seeing as whenever I'm indulging in fiction I tend to get lost in it and never want to come back (that is, I often prefer TV shows with long story arcs to films, and novels to short fiction) there are some really, really good short stories out there.

Post them here, and if possible, a link to read them online.

Here's the first one: The Last Question (http://infohost.nmt.edu/%7Emlindsey/asimov/question.htm), by Isaac Asimov. Possibly the best thing he ever wrote.

I want more. Give more.

[Boggy700]

That was truly amazing.




I feel the need to distance the rest of my post from that first statement, so as to not lessen it's sincerity.




Okay. Now for the rest of my post.

Short stories?
I know a few.



"whorl. Help! I'm caught in a time"
by Darren Aronofsky and Ari Handel

A six word story from a collection of others (http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/14.11/sixwords.html), based on the idea originating with Hemmingway's,
"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."
Some other personal favorites include,

"It’s behind you! Hurry before it"

"The baby’s blood type? Human, mostly."

"Dinosaurs return. Want their oil back."
and
"The Axis in WWII: haiku! Gesundheit."

I think this was posted a while back, actually.



Also!
Some of my favorite stories of all time.
55 Word Stories (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/latest.html)
Here's one: (http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story2.html)

"Never show weakness," bellowed the
lion-tamer. "They can smell it." The apprentice
looked dubiously at the lions, particularly one
grumpy-looking, scarred lioness. "What about
moral weakness?" he asked. "I steal cable and
drive an SUV. Also, I cheat on girlfriends."
Quickly the lion-tamer raised his chair, catching
the lioness in mid-pounce.

Here are my other favorites:
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story12.html
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story15.html
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story17.html
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story18.html
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story19.html
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story22.html
http://www.birdandmoon.com/55words/story23.html


Short stories with word limits?
I don't know why, but I like them.

[Ihsiin]

Roald Dahl is the king of all short stories, though I'm not sure if there are too many of them on the internet.
Let me have a look.

Ah, here are some:

Beware of the Dog (http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/botd.html)
Lamb to the Slaughter (http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/lamb.html)
Man From the South (http://www.classicshorts.com/stories/south.html)

But perhaps they're not quite as short as you'd like.

[Greg]

Edgar Allan Poe

I've enjoyed almost all the short stories I've read by him here's (http://www.poestories.com/index.php) a link that has his works on it.

[Ihsiin]

So, I've only just gotten 'round to reading that story (The Last Question) and I must say, I liked it a lot.
Though I'm pretty certain that nova is when a dying star becomes a mainstream star again and a planetary nebula is what transforms a star into a white dwarf.
But that’s of little consequence.

It was still a very nice story, cleverly written and strangely moving.

[Raine]

I must confess that I didn't quite finish 'The Last Question', however, I thought the dialouge was strangely strong.

I would post a list of... well... TONS of amazing short story writers. But, I don't think any of them are available on the internet. So, nobody would read them (probably).

[cubist]

I must confess that I didn't quite finish 'The Last Question', however, I thought the dialouge was strangely strong.

I would post a list of... well... TONS of amazing short story writers. But, I don't think any of them are available on the internet. So, nobody would read them (probably).

Man, do me a favour (I'm the guy who posted this thread, just remembered I had a better account) - finish the story. Trust me.

As for not knowing if they're available, see if you can find them on Google.

[Crow]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!


i dont think this is the full version

[cubist]

It is the full version. By sheer coincidence I have an Edgar Allen Poe collection sitting right next to me, "Fall of the House of Usher and Other Writings", which I've read so many times through some of the pages are beginning to fall out.

And Yes, it's primarily The Raven who suffers most from being over-read. I used to have people over for a few drinks, then after having had a lot more than a few I'd pull it out and begin orating in a deep, dramatic voice. It was fantastic fun.

[Crow]

it seems shorter, i have the full version somewhere

[cubist]

Are you sure? I'm fairly sure that's it. The Simpsons Halloween thing that did it was cut down somewhat, probably because viewers wouldn't know what nepenthe meant, but all the same.

Regardless, it's a bloody fantastic piece.

[Crow]

yeah it is, i have a book which is just The Raven with illustrations

its around 4 full pages altogether i think

[Ihsiin]

The Raven is the most overrated poem ever.
Lovecraft smashs up Poe.
Celephais! (http://www.dagonbytes.com/thelibrary/lovecraft/celephais.htm)

[Crow]

it's not overrated at all, its a great poem...its just over popularized

[Ihsiin]

Ok, I concede, I do quite like it.
The Raven is the most over popularised poem ever.

[cubist]

(Wow, for a second I thought that said "The Raving is the most populist poem ever", which struck me as rather an odd thing to say.)

Considering its popularity however, most people would be hard pressed to recite you even a couple of verses. Or even lines, I'll bet. It's like Citizen Kane - everyone's heard of it, but most of my friends have never seen the damn thing. Foolish mortals..

[Unspoken]

I just finished reading The Last Question... Wow...


I loved how it ended. Very clever. There were some grammatical errors, but that shouldn't detract from the story's essence. This is currently my favorite short story.


I am currently looking for one of my other favorite space stories, titled "The Cold Equations." Some may have read it before, but I felt that it needed a mention. I can't seem to find it yet, but I will post the link for those who haven't read it yet if I do.

[Ihsiin]

I loved how it ended. Very clever. There were some grammatical errors, but that shouldn't derive from the story's essence.

Surely you mean detract from the story's essence.

[Unspoken]

Maybe I do, maybe I dont... :nervous:


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