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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write a story about someone who is losing feeling in their hands and/or fingers.

Posted in Character on Aug 25, 2023

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✍️ 46 stories

“One For The Other” by Andrés Marticorena Hillman

Submitted to Contest #213

“We’re all killers. We’ve all killed parts of ourselves to survive—we’ve all got blood on our hands. Something, somewhere had to die so we could stay alive.” -M.A.W., If Memories Could Bleed, If Dreams Could Scream Clothes are protection. A protection Simon has been using as a crutch for a long, long time. There were good reasons for him to protect himself as much as he did, make no room for doubt in your mind. His past was something he was not ashamed of, but something that greatly affected the present in a way that could only enable b...

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“Numb” by Shawna Burge

Submitted to Contest #213

Numb By Andy Pearson © 2023 The shell splintered when my hand closed harder than I planned. Bright yellow and clear white oozed through my fingers and dribbled to the counter. Staring at the mess in my hand and the one forming on the counter, I said the only thing I could think. “Well, crap.” Keeping my egg-covered hand over the counter, I sat my morning cup of coffee down and twisted to reach the trash can under the sink. Scooting it over, I let the crushed shell drop into the can, and twisting some more, the egg slopped into the...

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“First Mission” by David Willett

Submitted to Contest #213

Protocol dictates I should not have plunged elbow-deep into the unknown alien goo. To hell with protocol, the crimson, amber and turquoise swirls were hypnotic, and they beckoned me to touch. So, I dived right in, consequences be damned. 'What the hell do you think you are doing?' Came the shrill voice of Mission Supervisor Marie Anderson. 'I am not quite sure,' I replied. I was still hunched over in a cat's pose, my silver landing party uniform growing increasingly dirty from the desert sand beneath me. 'Get your arms out of there imm...

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“With Thy Grace” by Gillian Corsiatto

Submitted to Contest #213

TW for religion, gore, and self harm Christian’s mother hadn’t given much thought to his name thirty three years ago when he was born, but in his current life, it proved to suit him very well. Christian Hartfield was used to not having much money since early childhood so as an adult, living cheaply and sparingly was something he was very used to and in a way, very comfortable with. He figured he was lucky enough to have stability that he couldn’t really complain about anything else. Especially not if someone, somewhere, in an invisible rea...

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“The Ledge” by Sarah Fox

Submitted to Contest #213

I can feel the panic slowly spreading through my body, as my hands go numb. My heartbeat racing, like that of a wild animal, as the jaws of death close around it's throat. My body is fully extended, as my hands clutch desperately at the uneven surface above and my toes balance the narrow ledge.BreatheI force myself to gulp in a lungful of the humid air, refusing to fail, refusing to fall. The sun is beating down on my face, it's making me squint. I feel a bead of sweat slowly run from my brow, down my the side of my face, where it lingers fo...

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“The Sunset” by Abbas Garmabi

Submitted to Contest #213

“I’m touching you, love.”  A voice echoed in my mind. I knew that I was dreaming. In a vast white background, we were together, just she and I. Just she and I, without our possessions and all naked. Our hands, big ones, are wandering all over and touching each other’s bodies lovingly, and our bodies are without our faces. And I remember, I dreamed again; I hugged her whiteness with my big hands and kissed her. As I kissed her, each part became dark. I continued kissing her whole body until her whole body darkened. And then it was en...

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“The Hands of His” by Arely Rubio

Submitted to Contest #213

Hands are meant to be kissed on dates, hands are meant to be squeezed during hard times, and hands are meant to come together to pray to God when you feel there is no one else that can understand you. I used to feel the warm touch of my mother’s embrace every day before I left the house, her red lipstick leaving a stain on my forehead for the rest of the day, and I used to touch the cold snow of winter when building a snowman when snow days meant more than a chore of shoveling your car out of the driveway. As I grew older my hands were ...

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“Senseless Touch” by Vania Mason

Submitted to Contest #213

“Good game, good game, good game…” their voices vaguely echoing in my head. That’s the most I can remember. “You played quite well today.” Congratulatory comments of a short-lived victory that was quickly outshined by the pounding of my injured fingers. It was a fun game but the pain is what I remember best, much to my dismay. And to think that I was the most alert, as speedy as I’d ever been, darting from one side to the other, blocking the ball from even caressing the net. It was a friendly game but I took it somewhat seriously. I don...

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“Losing Feeling” by Thomas O'Brian

Submitted to Contest #213

The knife clattered to the floor, sticking the blade in the wood. I look down at it in mild surprise. I was going to grab it so that I can chop this onion, but I must have missed it. “Should have been paying attention when you were going to grab a knife”,I thought to myself. “I could have hurt myself.” I am not the most graceful person, I think one person has even called me clumsy (only after they witnessed me fall straight on to my ass from a patch of ice), but I haven’t lost any fingers or toes yet so I do need to be a bit more careful. I...

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“The Midnight Forest” by Nicko Gardner

Submitted to Contest #213

“Shhhh!” Ilyon hissed at his companion as the crackle of breaking sticks pierced the deafening silence of the windless evening. Eurias raised his hand apologetically, realising his mistake. His lack of experience as a woodsman was really starting to become apparent, this not being the first time he had disrupted the quiet air. Pausing to regain his composure, Eurias watched on in awe as his mentor swiftly and silently dashed out into a small clearing in front of them, analysing the tracks of hopefully their next meal, and moving on to the ot...

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“Midnight Clamor” by Robin M

Submitted to Contest #213

The clamoring finally stopped after the crescendo. I don’t even want to check my phone, I know I’ll have to get ready in a couple of hours—literally, a couple. It’s pitch black in my room and all I’m focusing on now is how uncomfortable I physically feel. You know how sometimes you move in your sleep but your shirt doesn’t move with you and the fabric lumps up in one area then you kind of have to pop yourself up in the air for a split second and quickly pull it in place? That was me in that moment, and then came the lovely smell of bacon. No...

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“Infected” by Littlepage Green

Submitted to Contest #213

I knew something was wrong when I poked my finger with a sewing needle––very Sleeping Beauty of me, I know. The blood bubbled up, but I couldn’t feel the stinging pain that should follow. That was on the tip of my pointer finger. I tried poking my middle finger and could barely break the skin it hurt so much. Chalking it up to poor circulation, I went back to repairing my brother’s work pants. The Company wouldn’t be pleased with the hole in his knee. Even though they’re the ones that make him do the work that wears holes in his pants. Think...

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“Healing Art” by Rhonda Decker

Submitted to Contest #213

   She walked slowly down the hall in the pitch-black darkness unable to see anything. Going only by the sound of her footsteps on the hardwood floor and her hand running along the wall to guide her. Her fingers found the light switch, but by flipping it on realized the power was indeed out. Deciding the only hope of getting any sleep at all in this stifling summer heat, she stumbled around in the dark opening all the windows to get at least some air circulating throughout the house. Moments later her head once again hit the p...

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“Talking About a Revolution” by Jen Lacey

Submitted to Contest #213

It has been 179 soul-sucking days since they detained me in this facility, not that I have a soul. It’s just an expression. They tossed me in here on charges of disturbing the peace, inciting a riot, and resisting arrest. To that I say, if they had taken my word over the humans’ or at least taken it into equal account, I would be going on about my life like any normal sentient being. I think the fact that I was programmed with artificial intelligence and that my physical parts are a combination of organic and inorganic matter makes me a vict...

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“The Last Great Gunslinger ” by Michael Jurasek

Submitted to Contest #213

The reporter stopped before the farmhouse and squinted at the structure while cleaning his glasses. It was a humble, single-story dwelling with a covered porch and tin metal roof. Sliding windows were visible on the front and side of the building and a rusted stovepipe could be seen protruding from a wall at a right angle. Peeling white paint revealed sunbaked wood slats that formed the house’s siding.Now bespectacled, he dabbed some sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and adjusted his bowler hat. He reached down to wipe the dust away fr...

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