❶ 各位看過的小說有那些語言優美、故事情節生動的短篇小說給我介紹幾本。最主要的是語言優美！
我很愛野象小姐啊。
她是最小說上新人里人氣急升的作家。其寫作手法細膩而又貼近生活中的事內情，容溫暖而不失典雅
她的《嗨，你還在不在》，《逾期不候》都在最小說上發表了。
笛安的中短篇《姐姐的叢林》很感人。
還有最小說上最近一位讓前輩瞠目結舌的新人：南羽（薛彬）
他一共發表了兩篇文章《當晚》和《雲鶴》
在最小說上均是金賞。筆觸細膩動人。文字功底扎實。
被稱為小笛安。
❷ 求一些情節跌宕起伏，讀完了以後很耐人尋味，其中還蘊藏著一些人生哲理的短篇小說。
父愛的深度 丈夫一直記恨他父親，他說上學時每次拿生活費，父親都掏出欠條，讓他記上錢數，簽上名字日期。 【一】
我跟楊炎結婚八年。沒見過公公。開始我以為楊炎是怕我嫌棄那個家，不肯帶我回去。於是我積極表態：選了你．就做好了接受你的父母的准備．無論他們是窮是富，是老是病。楊炎握著我的手，卻不說話。
有一次．我甚至買好了三張去他家的車票．興沖沖地擺到他面前。說：「沖兒都5歲了，也該見見爺爺奶奶了。」卻不想楊炎的臉一下子拉得老長，把車票撕得粉碎。楊炎鼻子不是鼻子臉不是臉地說：「沖兒沒有爺爺．我也沒有爹。」然後他把一個杯子摔到了地上。我從沒見過他生那麼大的氣。
楊炎從農村出來．我知道他不是個忘恩負義的人。每年過年過節，他都要買很多東西寄回家裡。每次打電話．他都說：娘，來城裡住些日子吧！娘去了哥哥姐姐家。他總心急火燎地奔過去。看得出他想家，卻從不提回家的事。楊炎也從來不提爹。我不知道他們之間到底有什麼解不開的心結。
第二天是周末，楊炎把沖兒送到姥姥家。他回來接過我手裡正洗的衣服．第一次跟我說起我從未見過面的公公。
【二】
楊炎是家裡的老三．他有一個哥哥．一個姐姐．都上了大學。從前我總說：咱爹咱娘真的很偉大。農民家庭供出三個大學生．那得受什麼樣的煎熬啊！楊炎總是一口接一口地抽煙。不接我的話。
楊炎上初三那年，姐姐繼哥哥考上大學後．也考上了本省最好的師范學校。收到錄取通知書那天．全家人都在侍弄那二分烤煙地．陽光明晃晃的．把家裡人的心情都曬得焦躁。姐姐帶著哭腔說：我不去了．我去深圳打工，供小炎上學
爹重重地把手裡的鋤頭摔在地上：「不上學，也輪不到你！」
他抬起頭，說：「姐．我16了，我不念了。」母親在一邊抹眼淚。哥哥蹲在地邊．有氣無力地說：「我再找兩份家教．咱們挺挺。我畢業就好了。」
家裡東湊西湊還是沒湊夠姐姐的學費。爹抬腿出去。回來時，手裡攥著一把嶄新的票子。他把馬上就可以賣好價錢的烤煙地賤賣給了村裡的會計。娘說：「就這點地都賣了，咱往後吃啥喝啥?」爹說：「實在不行。就讓老疙瘩下來。」或者爹只是那樣一說，楊炎卻記在了心裡。盡管他說了不念書的話，但這話從爹的嘴裡說出來。他的心裡很不是滋味。
【三】
姐姐上學走了。爹出去幫人家烤煙葉。爹的手藝好，忙得不可開交。楊炎卻因為爹的那句話．學習上鬆懈下來．反正早晚都是輟學的命．玩命學又怎麼樣？很快。他便跟一幫社會上的孩子混到了一起。
直到有一天．他跟那些所謂的「朋友」去水庫玩了一天回到家時．看到爹鐵青著臉站在門口等他。
見了他，爹上來就給了他一巴掌：「既然你不願意上學。那好，從明天起你就別上了，跟你i舅去工地上做小工!」
他瞪著爹．心裡的委屈一下子湧上來，他喊：「憑什麼讓他倆上學．不讓我上?」
爹說：「因為你是老疙瘩，沒別的理由。」
他梗起脖子，說：「不讓我上學，我就不活了。」楊炎是個說到做到的人。他整整餓了自己5天．娘無奈地找來了村裡的叔叔伯伯。爹說：「想上學可以，打欠條吧，你花我的每一分錢，你都給我寫上字據，將來你掙錢了．都還給我。我和你娘不能養了兒子．最後還誰都指望不上。」
他坐起來．抖著手寫好字據。他咬牙切齒地說：「你放心．我一分一厘也不會欠你的。」
那晚．他跑到村東頭的小河邊哭了一夜。爹一定不是親的，否則．怎麼會如此對他?人家的老兒子。不都是心頭肉嗎?
他上學後，很少回家。可是爹卻總是以各種各樣的理由叫他回家幫他幹活。烤煙要上架，他一個人干不過來，要楊炎回家幫忙。麥子黃了，不及時收割會掉粒．還要楊炎回家搶收。楊炎咬著牙。拚命地幹活，他想考上大學就好了。離開這個家，也就算逃離苦海了
那次割豆子。楊炎一鐮刀下去．割傷了腿。娘給他抹葯時，他問：「娘。我是你們要來的吧?」
娘嘆了口氣，說：「別怪你爹，他也是被逼得沒法兒了，他怕你們都走了。孤得慌。」
他看了看正在院子里侍弄那半壟蘿卜的爹，說：「人家的父母砸鍋賣鐵都供孩子上學，哪像他。一天只知道錢錢錢。他一天到晚凈干那沒用的。」
爹每年都要在院子里種半壟蘿卜．也許是土質不好，蘿卜全都很小很小．幾乎不能吃，全家人只能喝味道很難聞的蘿卜纓子湯。
娘還當好東西一樣，把蘿卜纓子曬干，給他泡水喝。想想他就有氣。
【四】
上高中時，哥哥畢業上班了．姐姐的生活費也可以自理了。按理說家裡的條件好了很多。爹應該對他松一點了。
可是，每次他回家拿生活費、資料費．爹都鄭重其事地掏出那張欠條．讓他把錢數記在後面，簽上名字、日期。每次寫這些時．他都會咬緊牙關。然後把對爹的感情踩在腳底下。
那年臨近高考，家裡的麥子又黃了。爹捎信給他．讓他回來割麥子。他終於沒忍住，回家跟爹大吵一架：「你就不能割，幹啥偏指著我呀?」
爹狠狠地磕掉煙袋裡的煙灰。不緊不慢地說：「養兒防老，我不靠你靠誰?」
他沒黑夜沒白天地割了三天麥子，麥子割完．他頭也不回地回了學校。
那年高考．他考了全鄉最高分。他給哥哥姐姐寫了封信，信里說．他不指望爹能供他上大學，希望他們可以借他一點錢，這些錢將來他都會還。信裡面寫得很決絕。那時，他的眼裡只有前程，親情於他，不過是娘的一滴滴眼淚．一點用處也沒有。
上大學走的那天．他噙著淚離家，甚至沒跟爹打聲招呼。他已經很多年沒叫他爹了。在他眼裡，爹更像是一個債主，有了他一筆筆債壓著．楊炎才能使勁地往外走。楊炎吸了一口煙說，我能有今天，也算拜他所賜!
走到村口．楊炎回頭看家裡低矮的土房，一不小心看到站在門口的爹．他手搭涼棚向他離家的方向望。楊炎轉過頭，心變得很硬很硬。
【五】
楊炎說：「小雲。第一次去你家，你爸給我剝橘子，跟我下象棋，和顏悅色地說話，我回來就哭了一場。這樣的父親才是父親啊。」說完，他的眼睛又濕了。
楊炎從一本舊書里找出一張皺皺的紙．我看見上面密密麻麻記著好些賬．下面寫著楊炎的名字。楊炎說：「還清了這張紙，我就不欠他什麼了。」
我看得出楊炎不快樂，他對沖兒極其溺愛．他不接受別人說沖兒一點點不好，就連我管沖兒．他都會跟我翻臉。我知道楊炎的心裡有個結。
跟單位請好假，我對楊炎說要出差幾天．然後去了楊炎的老家。
打聽著找到楊炎家，盡管有了心理准備還是吃了一驚。家裡三個在城裡工作的兒女，都寄錢回來．怎麼他們還住著村裡最破的土坯房?看來楊炎說的公公愛錢如命果然不假。
院子里還有半壟楊炎說的蘿卜地。每年婆婆還是會寄些曬十的蘿卜纓給我。囑咐我泡水給楊炎喝。我嫌那味道太難聞，總是偷偷扔掉。
婆婆出來倒泔水．看到我，愣了一下。說：「你怎麼來了?」我和楊炎結婚時，婆婆去過。
把我讓進屋，昏暗的光線里．我看到佝僂在炕上的老人。他掙扎著起來。婆婆說：「這是小雲，楊炎家的。」公公哦了一聲．用手劃拉了一下炕，說：「走累了吧?快坐。」
他沒有想像中凶神惡煞．感覺他只是個慈祥的鄉下老頭。
我說：「爹，你咋了?」婆婆剛要說，公公便給她遞了個眼色，說：「沒啥，人老了，零件都不好使了。」婆婆抹了抹眼睛，開始給我張羅飯。
幫她做飯的當兒，婆婆問起楊炎和沖兒。我用眼角的餘光看公公，他裝作若無其事，可我知道他聽得很仔細。
跟婆婆出去抱柴，我說：「楊炎還在記恨爹呢!」
婆婆的淚洶涌而出。她說：「都說父子是前世的冤家，這話一點不假。你爹那個脾氣死犟，楊炎更是八頭牛都拉不回來。
「其實。最疼小炎的還是你爹。你看這半壟蘿卜，你爹年年種．就是家裡再難的時候，也沒把它種成別的。就是因為楊炎內虛．有個老中醫說蘿卜纓泡水能補氣．你爹就記下了。年年都是他把蘿卜纓曬好了，寄給你們。然後讓我打電話，還不讓我說是他弄的……」
「那為什麼爹那時那樣對楊炎呢?」
婆婆嘆了口氣。
「那時候楊炎在外面交了不三不四的朋友．你爹若不用激將法，怕是那學他就真的不念了。每次找他回來幹活，都是你爹想他，又不明說，誰知那孩子犟，兩個人就一直頂著牛……
「你爹的身體不行了，動哪哪疼．可是他不讓我跟孩子說，他說，他們好比啥都強，想到他們仨．我就哪都不疼了。他說什麼也不肯看病．小炎給的那些錢，他都攢著，說留給沖兒上大堂…」 我的眼睛模糊了。
婆婆說：「他每天晚上夢里都喊兒女的名字．醒了，就說些他們小時候的事。他說，孩子小時候多好，窮是窮點。可都在身邊，嘰嘰喳喳的．想清靜一會兒都不行……」
我站在村口給楊炎打手機。父愛是口深井。兒子那淺淺的桶，怎麼能量出井的深度呢？
❸ 世界著名短篇小說
THE GIFT OF THE
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is graally subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze ring a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out lly at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The ll precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of plication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
❹ 推薦幾篇情節跌宕的短篇小說，大概1000字以內，快哦
夜慢慢地降臨了。草叢里蟲鳴唧唧,此起彼伏。
有兩只蚊子,歇在草葉上。
公蚊子吸了一口草汁,輕輕地推了推賭氣僵立的母蚊子,柔聲地哄道: 「親愛的,你就喝一口吧,你一整天不吃不喝的,我真擔心……」
母蚊子鄙夷地看了一眼沾滿露水的草葉,不高興地說:「這么淡而無味的東西,叫我怎麼吃得下去？你天天說天天說的,不嫌煩嗎？」
「你是存心要和人類作對么？」公蚊子焦慮地看著她,「你不知道人類准備了多少種東西來對付我們,那種氣味,我聞著就頭暈腦脹,你萬一……」
「你是個懦夫,知道嗎？」母蚊子冷冷地看著他。然後振翅,從他身邊飛走了。
公蚊子憂心忡忡地看著人們的窗戶里透出的燈光。他知道她在裡面。不知道為什麼,今晚他有一種特別不好的預感,這使得他停在葉片上的身軀不斷地發著抖。
他好想看到她,知道她安全,雖然他無法遏抑住她吸食人血的野心。他突然悲涼地意識到,僅僅這一點,也許就會把他們兩個都毀了。
露水更重了,他覺得冷,可是她仍然沒有出來。他想到他們的前生,不是兩只蚊子,而是兩只企鵝。生活在冰天雪地里,整天愉快地邁著優雅從容的紳士步。那時,他是一隻最優秀的企鵝。深深地愛著她。像所有準備求婚的企鵝一樣,他千辛萬苦地奔波著,去尋找石子。他長途地跋涉,丟下一塊又一塊不太滿意的石子,摔得頭破血流時,他終於找到了一枚最精美最光潔的,他覺得只有這一枚,才配得上 她。可是,她和另一隻企鵝結婚了。那個他,跟在後面撿,把他扔的都撿起來,送了她。粗糙的,不完美的石子,但是很多,堆得滿滿的。他傷心地退出了,但是追隨她,到了這一世,甘心陪她,做一隻蚊子。
他被一種揪心的等待煎熬著,拼了失去生命的危險,往人類的窗里飛去。果然看到了她,正伏在人的胳膊上,埋頭吸著,青色的翅膀在輕輕地顫著。而他恐懼地發現,左臂動也不動的「人」正悄悄地抬起了右手…… 「快—躲開啊!~~~~」他撕心裂肺地大喊,可是來不及了,她痛楚地蜷成一團,掉到地上去了。 他飛近她,跪在一團血污的她身邊,淚如雨下。她吃力地睜著眼睛望著他,靜靜地,也流下淚來,「可惜啊,真可惜……」「你把我們兩個都葬送了……」他試圖扶起渾身冒血的她,「為什麼,你總是不肯聽我的勸？」
「我知道……可是我沒有辦法……因為,因為我懷了你的孩子……它需要營養……草汁不夠,我必須吸血……我知道我會死,但是你會繼續活下去,人類不會傷你的,因為你沒有冒犯他們……」她霎了霎瀕死的眼睛,微笑著說:「其實生了孩子,我也就會殫精竭慮而死,但這是我們做母親的責任……就算是拼了千千萬萬人的唾罵,也要為後代提供最好的東西……這是沒有辦法的事情……」
「為什麼？你為什麼不早告訴我？」 「我知道你疼我,如果我告訴你,你會替我去做的,那麼這會兒死的就是你了……我捨不得。呵……如果可以為你生一個孩子,我也就沒有遺憾了……我上輩子欠了你的,這輩子想還,結果欠了你更多……上輩子,我們是企鵝。其實我一直愛你,可是我卻嫁了他……因為他送了我好多石子,你知道嗎？我們生活在冰天雪地里,如果沒有足夠的石子做窩孵卵,我們的後代在出殼之前就會被冰層凍死……你送我的那一枚石子,好美,晶瑩剔透的,可是那是愛情,單純的愛情支撐不了長久的婚姻和對兒女的責任……我沒有嫁你,你恨不恨我？」
他拚命搖頭,泣不成聲。「是我不好,我沒有保護你,給不了你需要的一切,讓你受這樣的罪……下輩子,我們做螳螂好嗎？在新婚之夜,你吃了我,為我生孩子……死在你的腹中,我一定會很幸福的……」 「不,不,我們還是做兩只蟬吧,好嗎？天天喝著露水,快樂地唱著歌……小心,小心,……」笑容迅速地從她臉上抽走,她大大地喘著氣,淚水成股成股地流下,「快走,人來了……」
他回頭看了一眼,露出蒼涼而無悔的笑,「傻孩子……我們不是,要一起做蟬么？」
「啪!」一聲脆響,伴著一聲滿意的說話,「哼,又打死了一隻臭蚊子!」 他在死前的一瞬緊緊地擁抱了她。他們的血流在了一起,凝成一滴鮮紅色的眼淚。
被逼戒酒
老爸每天晚上喜歡喝點兒酒，雖然酒量不大，但他很少貪杯。上個星期，我買了兩瓶好酒帶回家孝敬老爸。
進了客廳，見老爸正躺在沙發上看報紙，我忙把酒往桌上一放，說：「爸，你看我給你買了什麼？」老爸一聽，抬起頭來，見是我，興奮地丟下報紙跑到桌前，嘖嘖稱贊：「不錯，好酒，可惜啊！」我忙問：「可惜什麼？」老爸苦笑著說：「我已經戒酒了。」我驚訝地問：「什麼？戒酒了？你是什麼時候戒的酒呀？」老爸不緊不慢地說：「我已經戒了好幾個月了。」
我警惕起來：「你怎麼會想到戒酒呢？是不是身體不好，醫生不允許你喝了？」老爸說：「哪兒啊，還不是你老媽給逼的，她把我灌醉好幾回了。」
我一聽，嬉笑道：「老夫老妻了，灌你酒干嗎？」老爸一聽，氣哼哼地說：「你媽把我灌醉了，還不是想套我的私房錢藏在哪兒，害得我的錢全部充公了。為了不上你老媽的當，沒辦法，我只好忍痛戒酒了。」
失 算
家裡熱水器壞了，朋友來喝茶，俺隨口說了一下，順便問問各家都用什麼牌子熱水器，性價比怎樣。
大家七嘴八舌，有主修派，有主購派。
俺屬主購派。機器已過保修期，請人來修，上門費、開機費、零件費，開支可觀，且不敢保證修後能用多久。不如新買踏實。
李君卻不插話，此時他與俺兒子倆人只顧低頭喝茶。俺也懶得理他們。
趁我們說得熱鬧，李君使個眼色，俺兒子起身，兩人去了兒子的房間。
片刻，倆人回來，兒子說，他們願意承接修理。
笑話，他們願意，俺還信不過哩！
俺呵斥兒子，讓他去做功課。
見俺兒子敗下陣，李君出馬。此人經商有道，最擅洽商談判。
他提出以50元購買舊淋浴器，修好後，俺若願意，以300元購回，不願意，他們自行處理。
大家認為可行，俺也覺得不吃虧，便同意了。他要簽約，俺笑他小題大做，煞有介事，沒搭理。
次日晚，李君換了隨意衣衫，自帶工具來到我家，與兒子卸下熱水器，在屋裡鼓搗。
俺在兒子門口觀望，一個拆卸，一個遞工具，煞有介事，竟當俺是空氣，看都不看一眼，嘁！
約半小時，李君拎著拆下的配件准備離開。臨走，倆人磨嘰，讓俺先付費，說總不能讓他們墊錢買零件。俺聽聽有些道理，又被他們糾纏不過，竟掏錢付費了。
李君離開後，俺想想不對，明明該他們先付俺50元嘛。
電話追過去，李君說正開車，不便多說，讓俺看看合同。
合同？見鬼，哪有合同！然而，是俺自己拒簽合同的。
第二天，李君來得早，兒子還沒放學。他便鑽到屋裡干起來。
俺才知道，動輒千餘元、幾千元的熱水器，構造、原理竟如此簡單。桶內不過一根電熱棒，一根鎂棒，一個控溫電阻，一根導水管，再無其他。李君所做的，只是拆下電熱棒、鎂棒、控溫電阻，照原樣買回新的再裝上。不拆不知道，一拆方知此物十分暴利。
兒子不在，李君這傢伙再不能當俺是空氣，打電筒、遞工具倒在其次，若俺不施援手，他一人斷無法將熱水器掛回牆上。
侍弄停當，通電，上水，幾分鍾後水已溫熱了。
俺問配件花了多少錢，李君說，多少錢與你無關，這是我們施工方的事。
俺忙說，俺沒別的意思，只想知道這東西到底有多少利潤。
李君說派別人買的配件，還沒算賬。俺便沒多想。
留他吃晚飯，李君說晚上有約會，可卻耗著不走。
終於，兒子回來了，倆人眉飛色舞，好不興奮。
李君掏出200元，給兒子100，說，工錢，你100，我100。倆人擊掌相慶。
簡直沒有天理！
俺幹得一點不比兒子少，只比他多，分工錢豈能沒俺的份，反了他們了！
李君很輕慢地將一張20元的扔給俺，說，這是你的。配件一共花了83，還多給你3塊。
士可殺不可辱！俺把錢摔還他，要他們償付應付的50元。
李君竟不認賬，說：合同呢？按合同來。這是你一貫藐視合同的代價。」
偷手機的年輕人
傍晚,在一個規模不大的快餐店裡,總共有三個食客:一個老人,一個年輕人,還有我。或許是因為食客不多的緣故,店裡的照明燈沒有完全打開,所以顯得有些昏暗。我坐在一個靠窗的角落裡獨自小酌,年輕人則手捧一碗炸醬面,坐在靠近門口的位置,與老人相鄰。
我發現,年輕人的注意力似乎不在面上,因為他眼睛的餘光,一刻都未曾離開過老人放在桌邊的手機。
事實證明了我的判斷。我看到,當那個老人再次側身點煙的時候,年輕人的手快速而敏捷地伸向手機,並最終將手機裝進他上衣的口袋裡,然後試圖離開。
老人的身體微微顫抖了一下,然後立即平定下來,環顧四周。
這時候年輕人已經在伸手開門,老人也似乎明白了什麼,他馬上站立起來,走向門口的年輕人。
我很替老人擔心。我認為,以他的年老體衰,很難對付一個身強體壯的年輕人。
沒想到,老人卻說:「小夥子,請你等一下。」
年輕人一愣:「怎麼了?」
「是這樣,昨天是我七十歲的生日,我女兒送給我一部手機,雖然我並不喜歡它,可那畢竟是女兒的一番孝心。我剛才就把它放在了桌子上,可是現在它卻不見了,我想它肯定是被我不小心碰到了地上。我的眼花得厲害,再說彎腰對我來說也不是件太容易的事,能不能麻煩你幫我找一下?」
年輕人剛才緊張的表情消失了,他擦了一把額頭上的汗,對老人說:「哦,您別著急,我來幫您找找看。」
年輕人彎下腰去,沿著老人的桌子轉了一圈,再轉了一圈,然後把手機遞過來:「老人家,您看,是不是這個?」
老人緊緊握住年輕人的手,激動地說:「謝謝!謝謝你!真是不錯的小夥子,你可以走了。」
我被眼前的一幕驚呆了。待年輕人走遠之後,我過去對老人說:「您本來已經確定手機就是他偷的,為什麼不報警?」
老人說:「雖然報警同樣能夠找回手機,但是我在找回手機的同時,也將失去一種比手機要寶貴千倍萬倍的東西,那就是──寬容。」
❺ 情節完美的經典愛情短篇小說
首領的小貓
晨曦（短）
不乖小兔子
蛇王選後：撿來的新娘
爺，我罩你
粉嫩夫君是匹狼
粘人相公
木頭娘子風流夫
❻ 梅里美著名的短篇小說有哪些
梅里美短篇小說集 電子書下載：http://www.52eshu.com/Software/Catalog27/2336.html
短篇小說：
新阿瑪狄斯
克里斯苔爾
回心轉意
得救版
詩神之子
發現權
相輔相成
自欺
宣戰
愛人的種種姿態
宴會游戲問答
相同的場所，不同的心情
誰買愛神？
告別
美麗的夜晚
幸福和幻境
鮮活的紀念品
離別的幸福
新婚之夜
搗蛋的快樂
十一月之歌
致選一的愛人
第一次失戀
回味
靠近愛人
出現
致遠方的愛人
河邊
再見
交替
中篇小說：
《達芒戈》、《高龍巴》、《嘉爾曼》
《嘉爾曼》（又名《卡門》），是他最為出名的作品。女主人公吉普賽女郎嘉爾曼，她就如天邊飄浮的雲，有種不自由毋寧死的氣質！豪放不羈、超然灑脫、靈動美麗！這是一部很優秀的作品，值得一讀！
❼ 世界著名短篇小說有哪些
001.《指環王》約翰·羅納德·瑞爾·托爾金其他作品 《精靈寶鑽》、《未完成的故事》
002.《荒原》T.S.艾略特
003.《傲慢與偏見》簡·奧斯汀 作家其他作品： 《理智與情感》《愛瑪》
004.《羅密歐與朱麗葉》莎士比亞 作家其他作品： 《奧賽羅》《李爾王》《麥克白》《哈姆雷特》（四大悲劇）《仲夏夜之夢》、《威尼斯商人》、《第十二夜》、《皆大歡喜》（四大喜劇）
005.《論人生》培根
006.《失樂園》彌爾頓
007.《魯濱遜漂流記》笛福
008.《格列佛游記》斯威夫特
009.《拜倫詩選》拜倫 作家其他作品：《唐璜》
010.《雪萊詩選》雪萊
011.《簡·愛》 夏洛蒂·勃朗特 作家其他作品：《教師》、《維萊特》、《雪莉》、《艾瑪》（未完成）
012.《呼嘯山莊》艾米莉·勃朗特
013.《大衛·科波菲爾》狄更斯 作家其他作品：《雙城記》《匹克威克先生外傳》《遠大前程》.《霧都孤兒》、《董貝父子》《馬丁·瞿述偉》、《荒涼山莊》、《聖誕故事集》
014.《福爾摩斯探案集》阿瑟·柯南·道爾 作家其他作品： 《遺失的世界》
015.《道連·葛雷的畫像》奧斯卡·王爾德
016.《苔絲》托馬斯·哈代 作家其他作品： 《遠離塵囂》、《還鄉》
017.《華倫夫人的職業》蕭伯納 作家其他作品：《聖女貞德》
018.《牛虻》伏尼契
019.《月亮與六便士》 毛姆 作家其他作品：《刀鋒》
020. 《艾凡赫》司各特 作家其他作品：《城堡風雲》
021. 《湯姆瓊斯史》 菲爾丁
022. 《東方快車謀殺案》阿加莎·克里斯蒂 作家其他作品：《陽光下的罪惡》、《三幕悲劇》、《國際學舍謀殺案》、《尼羅河上的慘案》、《羅傑疑案》、《無人生還》
024. 《時間機器》 威爾斯 作家：其他作品《莫羅博士島》、《隱身人》
025. 《坎德伯雷故事集》 喬叟
026. 《1984》 喬治·奧威爾
027. 《查泰萊夫人的情人》 勞倫斯 作家其他作品：《兒子與情人》，《虹》、《戀愛中的女人》
028. 《蝴蝶夢》 達夫妮·杜穆里埃其他作品《牙買加旅店》
029. 《名利場》 薩克雷其他作品 《潘登尼斯》、《亨利·埃斯蒙德》、《紐克姆一家》、《弗吉尼亞人》
030. 《蠅王》戈爾丁
031. 《愛麗絲漫遊仙境》 查爾斯·勒特維奇 ·道奇森 其他作品《愛麗絲鏡中奇緣》
032. 《白衣女人》 威廉·威爾基·柯林斯
033. 《金銀島》 羅伯特·路易斯·斯蒂文森 作家其他作品：《化身博士》
034. 《天路歷程》 約翰·班揚
035. 《盧宮秘史》 安東尼·霍普
036. 《阿格尼絲·格雷》 安妮·勃朗特其他作品《懷爾德菲爾山莊的房客》
037.《福爾賽世家》高爾斯華綏
038.《憤怒的回顧》奧斯本
039.《尤利西斯》詹姆斯·喬伊斯
040.《德拉庫拉》布拉姆·斯托克
❽ 感動人的短篇小說
《最後一片葉子》