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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#110: Hit the Road, Jack

On September 5th, 1957, Jack Kerouac published On the Road — a hugely influential novel, swelling with jazz, heat, and Americana, that follows free-spirited mavericks Sal Paradise and Dean Moriarty on their travels across the States. To celebrate its 64th anniversary, this week’s prompts all take place on the long and winding road (or right next to it). Safe travels!

🥇 Winner

“My Mother's Dreams.” by JanetthePlanet 66

🏆 Winner of Contest #110

In her dream she is fourteen, running home from work on precarious little heels, down the paved street, as molten metal plip-plops around her, dotting the cement with perfect silver discs. Her mother lags six feet behind, following her footsteps, urging her to tread carefully. A V2 rocket launches overhead, triggering the timer in her mind. She waits in the signature silence for the rocket to find its mark, as it careens noiselessly through the night sky. “One,” she shouts, “Two. Three. Four.” “We have plenty of time, Lizzy, plenty of time.”...

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⭐️ Shortlisted

“Before His Time” by Cassidy Lewis

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #110

“We have plenty of time,” Mum said. The whole world was practically on fire, but she made it seem like everything was cool beans. Ever the optimist, Dad thought, only half-cynically. Usually her idealism annoyed him – he called her a dreamer with her head in the clouds, which usually came out “Where’s your head at, woman?” But right now, he couldn’t have been more grateful to her. For daring to hope. “It’s fine, darlings, don’t worry” she said, “go and pack your favorite things. You can’t take everything remember, only as much as you can...

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“Off the Road” by Tim Roberts

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #110

“My father worked on the lorries. His checked shirt billowed gingham; his sod-brown arm lugged snug at window. He'd fit the coupling to the trailer, hugging the waggon cab close as a babe in arms. An expert. His white arm aiding brown to steer the great wheel tight and right; his eye narrowed and angled at the road, mapping the route exactly - back to Shropshire hills. We pestered on the plastic passenger seat; we even slipped sometimes from the polished cab. Sometimes he drove us on his lap in these days before Health and Safety, preten...

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This week's prompts

Set your story in a roadside diner.

Dystopian – 59 stories

Write about a couple who fall out on the road.

Valentine's Day – 16 stories

Start your story with a vehicle pulling over for a hitchhiker.

Horror – 48 stories

Write about a character on the road — and on the run.

Adventure – 40 stories

Start your story with the line “We have plenty of time,” and/or end it with the line “We were never going to make it.”

Angst – 47 stories

Stories

“My Mother's Dreams.” by JanetthePlanet 66

🏆 Winner of Contest #110

In her dream she is fourteen, running home from work on precarious little heels, down the paved street, as molten metal plip-plops around her, dotting the cement with perfect silver discs. Her mother lags six feet behind, following her footsteps, urging her to tread carefully. A V2 rocket launches overhead, triggering the timer in her mind. She waits in the signature silence for the rocket to find its mark, as it careens noiselessly through the night sky. “One,” she shouts, “Two. Three. Four.” “We have plenty of time, Lizzy, plenty of time.”...

Read story

“Little Casanova Town Diner” by Allie Mae Sakry

Submitted to Contest #110

I watched the downpour pound away at the old gas pumps through the window. They were already rusted from however many years they’ve stood there, barely covered by the awning hanging overhead. Must have been about seventy years by now. My chin resting on my palm, I sighed into the silence of Little Casanova Town Diner, just outside the town. “Nice weather out there,” called a voice a few rotating stools away. I turned around to look at the young man with pretty, silver hair and a kind smile. A dark silver, almost like he was going gray despit...

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“Kerfuffle in Yazoo County” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #110

The white boy falls out of the Ford F-150 pickup truck first, hitting the road with a sickening thud. His left eye is already turning purplish-red, eyelid swelling to a most startling size. Moments later, a pretty dark skinned girl is launched from the Ford’s passenger side as well, but she elegantly falls, executing a dive, tuck and roll, ending up on her feet as if she’d been preparing for that particular move her whole life—all while keeping ahold of her purse.It is impressive. We almost applaud, taking the cigarettes from our mouths...

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“Shortcut” by Alex Sultan

Submitted to Contest #110

For good reason, not all paths and trails are marked on every map. Marko kicked through piles of autumn leaves at the roadside. His parents had refused him a ride, he couldn’t afford the train, and hopping the bus without change didn’t work out. It'd be a three-hour walk back to Moscow.A car drove behind him. He turned. It didn’t come from the end of the road, but halfway as if it drove out of the forest. He waved his hand, slowly, inspecting the vehicle as it approached and stopped.Purple stains, like splashes of wet paint, coated the side ...

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“Before His Time” by Cassidy Lewis

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #110

“We have plenty of time,” Mum said. The whole world was practically on fire, but she made it seem like everything was cool beans. Ever the optimist, Dad thought, only half-cynically. Usually her idealism annoyed him – he called her a dreamer with her head in the clouds, which usually came out “Where’s your head at, woman?” But right now, he couldn’t have been more grateful to her. For daring to hope. “It’s fine, darlings, don’t worry” she said, “go and pack your favorite things. You can’t take everything remember, only as much as you can...

Read story

“Too close for comfort ” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Submitted to Contest #110

Just the first morning after he told her, "We have plenty of time," Suzan Mayweather adorned herself with a low hanging top and made her way across a wide expanse of land, unaccompanied. She did not take her umbrella or her hat or the sample sweater that usually smelt of patchouli. At some time, the cold would settle on her skin and drag her down the grass, screaming in her head. She was not to worry herself with the trivial knowledge that it was winter or maybe near winter and she could die from insomnia. What was important was that...

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“Joel's Diner” by Mister X

Submitted to Contest #110

CW: abortion On Saturday nights, the diner gets busy just after 9:00 p.m. I don’t mind it. It helps keep my mind off things—things like unopened bills, unanswered texts, unreturned phone calls. “Say Billy, I’m ready to order,” rasps the grizzled old man, raising a finger to get my attention. Typical of Fort Worth, he always wears a cowboy hat and belt buckle the size of a salad plate. I trot over. “Let me guess. You want chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, no green beans, and extra gravy?” I take the menu from him, a menu he...

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“Off the Road” by Tim Roberts

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #110

“My father worked on the lorries. His checked shirt billowed gingham; his sod-brown arm lugged snug at window. He'd fit the coupling to the trailer, hugging the waggon cab close as a babe in arms. An expert. His white arm aiding brown to steer the great wheel tight and right; his eye narrowed and angled at the road, mapping the route exactly - back to Shropshire hills. We pestered on the plastic passenger seat; we even slipped sometimes from the polished cab. Sometimes he drove us on his lap in these days before Health and Safety, preten...

Read story

“But Do We Have Time” by Shelby Schwartz

Submitted to Contest #110

“We have plenty of time.” He says to me, a smile playing on his lips. He is always tries to make lighter of the situation. Sometimes it works. Other times it doesn’t. He always says we have plenty of time. I don’t think he realizes that my time is running out. “Let’s go and enjoy ourselves.” Another famous saying. He grabs my hand and drags me along with him through the amusement park. I follow him with ease, trying to catch up to his long strides. He looks back at me, blue eyes beaming with delight. Any chance we get, he takes me here...

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“The Travelers ” by Daniel R. Hayes

Submitted to Contest #110

(Content Warning: Blood, gore, mild language, some crude humor.) Wallowing through the darkness at sixty-five miles an hour on rural I-79, Bethany’s eyes grew heavy. She had been driving for the past three hours, and fatigue was starting to set in. In a desperate attempt to stay awake, she cranked the radio volume to the max, hoping the noise would keep her senses alert. It helped for a few miles, but Bethany needed something more. She rolled down the window and let the cool air coast over her body. Goosebumps appeared on her arm...

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“Dangerous Drive” by Jesse Maurer

Submitted to Contest #110

Before you judge me, please know, that i do know it is dangerous to pick up a hitchhiker. I am perfectly capable of making good decisions. So I have ONE flaw. One weakness.. I like to help people. It was raining. I saw him standing out in the rain along the highway, thumb out, trying to find someone willing to give him a break from the rain. This is normal weather for southwestern Pennsylvania. "Get in!" I yelled out the window as i slowed to a stop. The man threw his backpack in the backseat and then jumped up front with me. "Thanks,...

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“a convincing illusion” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #110

a convincing illusion He was 6 months under the age of 21, and he had lived many lives already: different people, different roles, different professions… None of them significant. Now he had 10 worn-out dollar bills in his pocket and he had a choice: stay and be the town queer or run and be free. Become a stray dog or a hippie maybe. Grow his hair and live his life as simple as possible to maintain his values of love and happiness. And peace of course. Wear conspicuous clothes, listen to laughter and birdsongs. Become a vegetarian, see the w...

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“Promoted” by Michael Martin

Submitted to Contest #110

Why was Rick calling again? It had only been 30 minutes since Ed’s last check-in.Work could wait; Ed swiped Ignore on the cracked screen of his old phone. “Alright Danny, let’s…” Where was his son? Ed whipped his head around, looking from one end of the massive roadside truck stop to the other. “Honey, where’s Danny?”“He was right h-” His wife, Ivana, paused as she turned to face the candy aisle that Danny ran down just moments before. “Uh, Danny? Danny?!” A moment of silence followed, one that stretched to...

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“Danny and the Tin Snail” by Katharine Widdows

Submitted to Contest #110

I love my tin snail. 29 horsepower, full length roll back sunroof, four gears, fun suspension. She may date back to 1971 but the front inboard mounted brakes are the same technology used in formula one cars. I have to say, I feel more like a rally driver as I throw her round the corners.Speaking of corners, there’s a guy with his thumb up at the bend, heading out of Talby.I’d love the company, I wonder if he’ll accept a lift from a 2CV? Some consider these old Citroens unsafe but, with their built-in crumple zones, almost vertical steering s...

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“Death Comes to Maxie's” by Charlene 🧙‍♀️✨ Boyce

Submitted to Contest #110

I guess I should have known things were going to go badly when the milk curdled. I been coming to Maxie’s for my coffee for more than 40 years, and I never got curdled milk before. But there, I added my sugar, two spoons, stirred it up and picked up the little cow-shaped cream pitcher and poured and it all sat sickly white and lumpy in my cup. Depressing, that. Waste a good coffee. It was Wednesday, so that means Wilma was working, except it wasn’t Wilma at all. It was some new girl with blonde curls who kept looking at the phone she was hol...

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$250

Prize money

210

Contest entries

144

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 10, 2021 EST

Won by JanetthePlanet 66 🏆

Title: My Mother's Dreams.

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

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