Short Stories

Sparks

Author's Note:

[The title of this story is still pending, so if you have any ideas, please let me know. Thank you.]

This is LONG, as you can probably tell by the number of pages, and I would fully understand if you gave up reading about half-way through.

Any-who: This is just a short little thing (Short as in compared to a full book) I just wrote up. Not quite sure what I think of it, it's not my best work really, since it requires a lot more imagery than I'm experienced with. But I really wanted to write it anyways. Let me know what you think in the comments below.

Hey - let's play a drinking game. Every time you see the word "smile", or any synonyms for the word, you take a drink. You'll be so tipsy the computer will start reading the rest of the story to you, and then finish off with a river dance.

 

 

Sparks - The Magic of Reading

The front door of the house slowly opened, allowing a peek at the shining moon, before it was followed by the silhouette of a man entering and closing the door. His light footsteps filled the halls next as he made his way into the house, setting down his bag and suitcase on the table. His wife must've heard the door, for she padded down the stairs, turned down the hall, and was now lazily walking up to him, smiling and rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she entered their sitting room.

"Welcome home, hun." Her voice was soft and drowsy yet pleasant, as if she had been awaiting his arrival for some time. She gave him a light kiss and pulled away, picking at some lint on his suit jacket which was now being removed from his shoulders along with his tie.

"Thanks, baby." He responded with a wide smile as she took the jacket and hung it in the coat closet, closing the door with a light click. He kissed her forehead and pulled her close into a hug, and they stood there for a few seconds.

"You've been working real late these past weeks," his wife said, her head resting on his shoulder, "Your daughter's not amused."

He chuckled at this and sighed, "Well it's all worth it. And besides, I'm on holiday now. I'll make it up to her. To you both." The pair exited the parlor, walking through the hall and up the stairs with cautious, quiet steps, where they stopped at their bedroom door.

"You've missed out on a lot of bedtime stories." His wife said abruptly, her hand still resting on the door knob. Her husband sighed, and scratched his head a little.

"She still refuses to learn to read herself, does she?"

"Says it's useless."

"But it's not."

"I've told her. She's behind in her classes; it could help her stay on the same learning level."

"Oh, and it's so much more than that!" her husband whispered as loudly as he could without disrupting his daughter from down the hall. "I can't believe she doesn't like reading."

"I think she's still awake," his wife said, folding her arms, "You should probably go talk to her."

Her husband was undoing the top two buttons of his dress shirt and looked up in mock contemplation as he rolled up his sleeves. He hummed and bit the side of his lip.

"Yeah," he decided, "I probably should."

She giggled at him, shaking her head, and stood on the tips of her toes to give him a small kiss that the two of them smiled into.