Pocket Storytime

  At the centre of a sleepy little town stood The Enchanted Mug—a strange little cafe where latte art sometimes winked at you in a knowing glance. The regulars knew the secret: this café was ever so slightly magical and completely and utterly unrepeatable. Juno, a perpetually curious barista who sported a streak of teal hair, enforced a single rule: Never order the "Mocha of Misunderstandings" unless Mercury is in retrograde. Enter Leo—flustered charming and devastated. He collapsed onto a window seat, grasping a paperback copy of Love, literally . Juno came over with a smile and a menu rimmed faintly with glitter. "I'll take… whatever will correct this," Leo sighed melodramatically. Juno looked up at the sky. Mercury wasn't in retrograde. However, her cat the unofficial café manager meowed and knocked the recipe card for the” Mocha of Misunderstandings “off the shelf. “Well,” she whispered, “close enough.” Soon enough, the drink appeared—heart-s...

  Elowen always sensed she did not fit in in the actual world. Whilst the rest were hurrying through traffic, frantically scrolling through their phones, and ticking off lists, Elowen strolled through antique bookshops, whispered at flowers, and fantasized about cities without clocks. One night spent lying awake with a blanket wrapped around her and a novel in her hands, she whispered to the night skies, "Take me somewhere I belong." The stars obeyed The next day, she awoke not in her small flat but in a velvet cloud bed. The atmosphere was scented with sugared roses and honey wind. As she emerged outdoors, she gasped. Lavender painted the sky above. Silver and pink leaves glimmered on the trees. Waistcoats adorned rabbits. Butterflies sang lullabies. The sun yawned and blinked like a sleepy cat. She landed in the Lavender Realm. People painted rainbows for a living here, danced on weekends with dragons, and made cupcakes that sang you a compliment as you ate th...

  Every Sunday at 4:00 p.m. sharp, Mrs. Krishna would open her balcony door, place two cups of tea on the wooden table, and sit in the chair closest to the sun. The second chair was always empty. Her neighbors had stopped asking who the second cup was few years ago. Some assumed it was her late husband. Others thought it was a habit too comforting to break. But Mrs. Krishna knew better. It was for Thara — the girl who used to live upstairs. Ten years ago, when Thara was just twelve and her parents were always busy, she’d sneak down to Mrs. Krishna’s house. At first it was for her biscuits. Then it was for the silence. Eventually, it was for the stories. She would sit cross-legged on the floor, sipping sweet chai, listening to tales of her youth — how she once played Juliet in a college play, how she loved gardening, and how the smell of first rain made her cry. “Why don’t you ever sit in the second chair? “She once asked. “Because it’s yours,” she had smiled. Then o...

  Hey there! I’m Swathi, and I’m thrilled to welcome you to Pocket Storytime — a cozy little corner of the internet where stories fit right into your pocket. Whether you have five minutes on your commute, a short break, or just want a quick escape, this blog is here to bring you modern, engaging short stories that spark your imagination. Why Pocket Storytime? Because life’s busy, but great stories don’t have to wait. Here, you’ll find fresh tales across genres — from heartwarming moments to thrilling twists, and everything in between. My goal is to give you bite-sized stories that you can enjoy anytime, anywhere. Expect new stories every week , and feel free to join the conversation by leaving comments or sharing your thoughts. Don’t forget to subscribe so you never miss a story! Thank you for stopping by — let’s dive into the world of stories together. Happy reading! Swathi