Tickle Stories

"You're not going anywhere, Hank." Jill's voice echoed through the house, firm yet laced with the faintest hint of desperation. Hank looked up from his plate of eggs, his bicep flexing as he brought the fork to his mouth. "Mom, you know I need this money for college," he said, the muscles in his jaw tensing. Jill sighed, her eyes flickering with resignation. She knew her son was right. College wasn't getting any cheaper,...

In a quaint suburban neighborhood, where the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers lingered in the air, stood a modest single-story home with a red brick facade. Behind the house, a young man named Hank worked tirelessly in the backyard, his muscles rippling with each swing of the axe as he chopped firewood. The rhythmic thwack of wood on wood echoed through the stillness of the early afternoon. A fine sheen of...