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misstoria

Romantic Short Stories

  • Tragic Love

    One hand rested on the wheel, the other on my bound hands. He kept glancing into my eyes, smiling, like a predator looking at his prey. I was scared beyond ...

    • Short Story
    • Romantic
    4 min read
  • Dating Sucks

    A rogue raindrop finds its way to the pale skin of my overly large forehead. I don’t have the strength or want to wipe it away so I let it ...

    • Short Story
    • Romantic
    3 min read


I was flummoxed by fractious Franny's decision to abrogate analgesics for the moribund victims of the recent conflagration. Of course, to display histrionics was discretionary, but I did so anyways, implicating a friend in my drama to make the effect cumulative. I think a misanthrope would have a prosaic appellation, perhaps one related to autonomy and the rejection of anthropocentrism. I think they wouldn't think much of the prominence of watching the coagulation of tea to prognosticate future malevolent events, not even if those events were related to jurisprudence.
— Spearmint