Picnic in the storm by Yukiko Motoya. Rating: 3.5 ⭐/5 _______ This book is a collection of 11 short stories, all of them strange in their own ways. The stories take you on a trip from a woman who gets obsessed with bodybuilding after watching a boxing match with her husband to a girl who marries her own father, spites her mother, and gets cursed with bloody tears and a lonely life filled with the fear of her mother trying to kill everyone she cherishes. Out of the eleven stories, four stood out for me. One was the story of a woman who starts to resemble her husband and her husband falls into the pit of depression and eventually turns into a flower in the mountains. Another one was about a street vendor who struggles to understand strange beings shattering his stall every once in a while for no particular reason. The third one that I really liked was the girl with bloody tears who marries her father. That one was rather peculiar. The last one which I really liked was "Fitting Room." It was just so absurd. It was about a woman with a very strange body who couldn't find a suitable dress at the store and ends up staying at the store all night long looking for the best fit. She never finds it. I do wish the stories were a bit more coherent, though because the style really confused me. Maybe, it is just me and I like things to be specific but in my opinion, the writing wasn't fluid enough. ________ QOTD: Have you read any Japanese authors? How did you like them? // . . . #booklover#bookworm#bookstagrammer#bookcommunity#bookishlove#booknerd#bookaddict#fff#l4l#follow#igreads#readersofinstagram#bookstore#bookstagramfeature#goodreads#welovebooks#epicreads#like#bibliophile#bookfeature#bookwormsfeature#bookishfeature#review#becauseofreading#featuredbooklovers#littlebookworm#vsco#collection#shortstory#japanese
Peristiwa itu telah lama berlalu, tapi berdasarkan pengalamanku selama ini, bahwa masa lalu tidak mungkin dapat dikubur. Bagaimana pun, apapun cara yang dilakukan untuk menghindarinya, masa lalu akan selalu menyeruak mencari jalan keluar. Aku melihat kembali ke masa lalu dan aku baru menyadari jika aku terlalu amat lama berdiri di gang sempit yang terbengkalai for 15 years. |15 Years| By : J.G James 2020 #shortstory#thetruestoryof#thenewyear2020thenewme2020#thenewzidaexpert2020 Holiday Time 2020 @ 🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡🏡 Ayank Ello Nasution 2020 House
"I woke up to the sound of her demonic screams. This was my life now; a never-ending series of screams and nothing else." Today's #shortstory 'Luna' comes to you this #mondaymorning in the aftermath of the #fullmoon, written by @amyquotb ➡️Link in bio. #halloween
The storm had come without warning. ⠀ Strong, sudden whirlwinds had landed on the village tearing the houses’ rooftops, smashing them to the ground, leaving the peasants exposed to the storm’s voracious appetite. ⠀ Even after the Sages had sent their prayers to the mighty sky, its fury refused to ebb. ⠀ Rainfall drowned the streets, turning them into unstoppable rivers that washed away everything in their path. ⠀ The only thing that stood was the castle. ⠀ Soon enough, the peasants had made their way there, clutching the land with hands and feet, clawing their way to the castle’s gate. ⠀ Their pleas reached my ears like cries of desperation, yet there was nothing I could do, trapped in the castle’s highest tower. ⠀ The rain made its way through the thin bars of the tall windows, whipping my skin, and drenching my aching body to the bone. I tightened my grip around the rusted rods, as the strong winds threatened to lift me off my feet. ⠀ I caught the movements of a woman below. ⠀ She had lost her bonnet and her long hair billowed behind her neck. In her arms she was carrying a bundle, hunching her shoulders over it to protect it, while she yelled for help. Between the crackling thunders and the hissing of the angry winds, I discerned some of her words. “Please—take him—save him—” ⠀ A nasty snapping sound echoed, and I watched a tree getting knocked over; its roots rising from beneath; its bark twisting at the mercy of the storm. It started whirling toward the woman, who had seen nothing and was still trying to make her way to the gate. ⠀ “Watch out!” I yelled with all my might, again, and again, and again, until there was no voice left in me. ⠀ She disappeared in front of my eyes, dragged under the force of the uprooted tree. ⠀ My eyes darted right and left, desperate to see her again. My heart couldn’t help but cling to the hope she had survived. ⠀ Her lifeless body lay on the ground, her voice sounding no more.
Tapi tentu saja yang menggantung di benak ku sampai hari ini, sama seperti perahu layar yang masih tersender di dek sampai malam esok harinya. Apa yang akan dilakukan para pelayar, ketika mereka tahu mereka siap berlayar. Mungkin mereka berusaha untuk tidak membicarakannya saat berada di lautan samudra luas nanti. Aku tahu itu sumur karena aku bisa melihat air mengalir keluar dari bawahnya, tapi sumur itu lebih besar daripada sumur kebanyakan, seperti bak mandi bulat yang sangat besar dengan anak tangga marmer yang turun ke bawahnya. Airnya jernih sekali dan kupikir kalau aku bisa masuk dan mandi di dalamnya mungkin dapat meringankan sakit kepalaku. Tapi The White Lion memberitahuku, katanya, “Tenggelam dan terbawa arus sekarang atau tidak sama sekali.” I don’t know, I’m not so sure, apakah The White Lion benar - benar mengatakan kata - kata itu padaku atau tidak. #shortstory#creativewriting#2020data#2019done HOLIDAYS TIME 2020 @ PATBINGSOO ^JAMSIL BINGSOO^ #koreandessertcafe
LE BUTIN C’est arrivé un lundi matin. John, Jack et Jim se retrouvèrent après le braquage dans le pavillon de banlieue qui leur servait de repère. Il étalèrent les billets sur la table. Toute la recette du week-end du dépanneur chinois. On est riche, les gars. Alors seulement, ils ôtèrent de leur crâne les cagoules roulées en bonnets. John commença à compter. Il s’emmêla les pinceaux à 1240. T’as jamais su calculer, se moqua Jack. Jim proposa de simplifier le partage en faisant trois tas de hauteur identique. C’est pas juste, dit Jack, les billets ont pas tous la même couleur. On n’a qu’à tout flamber ensemble, osa John. C’est quand Jim sortit son briquet que les choses dégénérèrent. -- Vous brûlez d’envie de lire d’autres histoires comme ça ? Aimez notre page. -- Textes : @francois.ulrich Illustration : @laurentpinabel -- #litterature#unlundimatin#lire#litteraturequebecoise#fulp#histoirecourte#lecture#shortstory#illustration#braquage#billet