Write about someone whose job is to help people leave their old lives behind.

Posted in Adults on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 246 stories

“Pellucid Plans.” by Adanna Anita

Submitted to Contest #75

“My story is scary, horrifying, and sadly true.So, when I was little my grandfather kept coming after my sister and doing ‘very bad things’ to her that I didn’t understand. I knew she didn’t like it and I had to protect her. I found a pocket knife in the garage of their house — one of those little red swiss army ones.I pocketed it and decided I would do what’s right.Next time he came for her, I defiantly pulled out that knife and stood between him and her saying he couldn’t do those things to her anymore. His face filled with hate and venom....

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“Redaction” by Sjan Evardsson

Submitted to Contest #75

Carter Carson nursed his whiskey. Droplets of condensation traced crooked paths to the mat below where they soaked into a ring that circumscribed the bottom of the glass. After each sip he was careful to place the glass back in the exact position it had been.A tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to his surroundings. “Hey Carter, what’s up?” She stood behind him, holding a bottle of beer. “You look like you could use some company.”“Maya, surprised to see you out on a weeknight,” he said. “Sit down. Even if I said no, you’d sit next...

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“What is Your Job?” by Kathleen March

Submitted to Contest #75

I am here to help you leave your old life behind. That is my job. My important job. The other one, the institution where I work, is just to earn enough to pay the bills. My real job is sometimes risky, and it can make enemies for me. I have to keep that in mind. Still, I do the work because it matters. We all need to figure out what matters in life. That’s my belief, anyway. *** My name is Pilar, Pilar Landín. You may know me as Lavinia Rivers’ friend if you’ve read any of the other stories that are set in Santiago de Compostel...

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“Take My Hand” by Daniel Roueche

Submitted to Contest #75

Spirit Number: 815 Gender: Male Age: 92 years old Name: Clarence “Take my hand,” I say. A tiny man named Clarence gives me the uncertain look I see every day. His eyes furrow, mouth hangs open as though he wants to say something. “Don’t try to speak yet. It takes a few minutes, but it’ll come back to you.” He stares at my hand for a second, then takes it. An inaudible sigh escapes his lips as his shoulders slump down into a noticeable curve. “It can be a bit jarring at first, b...

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“The Solution at Walcott Place” by Kendall Defoe

Submitted to Contest #75

The device was humming, so they knew they just had to hit the button. “Good morning! How are we today?” The hologram was always a nice touch, thought Mildred. She and her partner made sure to get the most interactive features on the device. They had set up the appointment over a year ago and were not going to miss the set up for the price they paid. “Oh, uh, WE ARE WELL!” “George, again, you really do not have to raise your voice and yell.” “Oh, sorry.” He was still the same man that she responded to and pair bonded with after thei...

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“I like my old life but I probably should have a new one.” by Sambulo Kunene

Submitted to Contest #75

"No, no you weren't an alcoholic. You sometimes drank too much."said the therapist to his patient that he had helped for over 15 years and realizing that he had to unload his patient. Can you imagine paying off your mortgage as a result of helping someone cope with the pain of unresolved issues in their lives? There is something called a guilty conscience, ladies and gentlemen! In this case it struck Scot, Mr. Scott Zwingli when he realized that he looked forward to some of his patients more than he did his wife sometimes!Agnes had been his ...

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“Fatima” by Scott Skinner

Submitted to Contest #75

Two people, Brian Miller and Maud Berdeck responded to the Craiglist solicitation that I authored while sitting on the toilet at the store. My name is Tilden, and I’m a Dry Cleaner. I hated telling people that because, inevitably, they would ask how I got into the business and if I didn’t feel like lying, I’d have to tell them the truth; It’s the family business and I was spoon-fed the job just like everything else in my untroubled life. The Craiglist post offered the reader a chance to leave their old lives behind. I wrote, I can help ...

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“Move On: Rock bottom” by An Echo

Submitted to Contest #75

Ever reached rock bottom? No, not that fantasy world with the talking fishes and tasty burgers. It's a mental place. And when you get there, your brain automatically tells you to leave. Get out. Move on. But it's never easy.Some of us didn't exactly stick the landing and we're broken pieces scattered around.Maybe we pick ourselves together, maybe we don't. Maybe we're too tired, tired of it all, tired from the drop, tired of being broken, tired of being put back together, tired of falling after getting back up, or like I said before just tir...

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“Hold On” by Black Raven

Submitted to Contest #75

I still remember...it has been fifteen years, and she won't leave my mind. Her delicate features and bright smile... She was the person I admired the most. Guess she changed me. How couldn't she, though? After all, it was my fault. I would always pick one her. Everyone did. My naiveness, that's what caused it. Determined to get her attention, I never once stopped to think about what I was really doing. 15 years ago She lay there, books sprawled all over the floor. I had tripped her again. The third time that day, I think. In my ...

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“The Department of Afterlife Training” by Emily Hemmings

Submitted to Contest #75

I had been working for the Department of Afterlife Training and Reassignment for nine-thousand, four-hundred years, ever since dying in northern Mesopotamia at the age of seventeen. I do not remember my real name from that time - when spoken to, I was now called Uri - but I do remember how I died. I was one of the first human beings to ever drink themselves to death from the newly discovered drink of the gods: beer. It was not my choice to die, but the same could be said for most people. And like most people, upon my death I had bee...

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“He Looked Nothing Like Jesus” by Rexy Rexy

Submitted to Contest #75

Existence is pain, Existence is absurd, Existence is pointless… ‘Nadia!’ The familiar shout from her father downstairs drifted up and stopped her pencil mark dead on the paper. ‘Nadia!’ Again, this time much louder, with a thundering bang on the wall for extra effects. ‘Yes, what is it?’ She came back from her dreaded philosophizing and shouted back towards downstairs. ‘Get the door. Somebody is at the door! Are you deaf?’ Her father shouted some more with blurred cursing. ‘Ah, that old drunk! Why can’t he for once do it! H...

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“The Memory Man” by Missy Talbot

Submitted to Contest #75

The 14th of December was a cruel, bitter day; the sort of day best left to be forgotten, save by the poets who would look at the barren trees and flat gray skies and think there was something there worth immortalizing. The town was quiet and still, the streets empty, no one bothering to embrace the agony of the winter cold unless absolutely necessary. I stoked the fire in my office. It was a feeble thing, the flames desperately licking the air the way a hungry dog licked a bo...

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“What's in a Name” by Deborah Mercer

Submitted to Contest #75

Nora Marks really wasn’t bothered what her foster children called her. There were things she was bothered about, and let them know in no uncertain terms, like bullying or leaving uneaten food under the bed (though being untidy herself, that didn’t over concern her) but they could call her more or less what they wanted. She was fine with being Nora, or Auntie Nora, and though she didn’t really like it, she quite understood why some of the children preferred to call her Mrs Marks. Once you started forcing informality on people, it rather defea...

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“Carpe Noctem” by Mandy McCool

Submitted to Contest #75

I’ve been called many things over the years: the Spirit, the Guide, Fate… all paint me in a way that portray clarity and endless wisdom. I suppose by definition that is mostly true. I am the clarity that arrives to enlighten those that stray from the path of which they are destined. It is a gratifying position. Time moves forward and the lives I touch will either embrace my visions or turn against me and face a future of sorrow. Either way, I move forward. Time never ceases and thus neither will I. To say that I live is only a half trut...

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“Doorway” by David Francis

Submitted to Contest #75

Doorway The hall was sparsely furnished and smelled of damp. Electric heaters mounted on the peeling walls gave off a reluctant heat that barely touched the chill atmosphere of the darkened interior. Once, long ago, this had been a vibrant community hall, thronging with people and paved with good intentions. But that was when the neighbourhood was new built, fresh hope still abounded in the optimistic community settlement, and work was plentiful. Now though, like the hall’s peeling walls and neglected furniture, the community...

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Write about someone whose job is to help people leave their old lives behind.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 246 stories

“Pellucid Plans.” by Adanna Anita

“Redaction” by Sjan Evardsson

“What is Your Job?” by Kathleen March

“Take My Hand” by Daniel Roueche

“The Solution at Walcott Place” by Kendall Defoe

“I like my old life but I probably should have a new one.” by Sambulo Kunene

“Fatima” by Scott Skinner

“Move On: Rock bottom” by An Echo

“Hold On” by Black Raven

“The Department of Afterlife Training” by Emily Hemmings

“He Looked Nothing Like Jesus” by Rexy Rexy

“The Memory Man” by Missy Talbot

“What's in a Name” by Deborah Mercer

“Carpe Noctem” by Mandy McCool

“Doorway” by David Francis

🌟 Similar prompts

Write about someone who has finally managed to succeed at a long-standing New Year’s resolution.

Start your story with one character making a vow that they never would have made the year before.

Write about someone who doesn’t remember their past — and doesn’t want to.

Write about two characters who each want to change the same thing, but resolve to go about it in very different ways.

Contest #75

Enter our weekly contest!

$50

Prize money

735

Contest entries

0

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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