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#120 Nostalgia

Do you ever get a warm, fuzzy feeling when eating a favorite childhood meal or meeting up with an old friend? On the other hand, maybe you’ve revisited something you were nostalgic for, only to find it wasn’t quite what you remembered. Or perhaps you’ve found yourself longing for a time before you were even born...

This week’s prompts encourage you to write around the bittersweet feeling of nostalgia, and imagine the different ways your characters might confront memories from the past.

This week's prompts

Write about a character who yearns for something they lost, or never had.

Angst – 111 stories

Start your story with the line ‘Back in my day…’

Adults – 28 stories

Write about two characters’ different perspectives of the same past event.

Middle School – 36 stories

Start your story with a character looking through an old family photo album.

Fluff – 44 stories

Your character has always viewed the past with rose tinted glasses. Write about what happens when they’re finally confronted with the truth.

Angst – 25 stories

Stories

The Snow Globe (Mild reference to abduction/murder.)

Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #120

Memories fill my mind as I gaze at the glass ball in my hand. As the late afternoon sun slowly dwindles into dusk, I am reminded of another winter’s afternoon like this one. Three years ago, my sister was murdered, on a dark December day when the sky was full of snow and frost glittered on branches and windowpanes. The weather then was crisp and cold, much as it is today, and the expectancy of Christmas hovered in the air. I remember looking out of my bedroom window, hoping that Sophie had worn her scarf and mittens, waiting impatiently fo...

15 likes

Chains

Submitted to Contest #120

It had been long and difficult process, but I had finally caught him. He put up quite the fight, but in the end he had to know there could only be one outcome. It took everything I had to subdue him, but I had just enough strength to get him restrained. Before he had a chance to recover, I jumped on his back with the collar and leash in my hand.“Get off of me, Alicia!” He screamed as he thrashed and squirmed.“Stop……resisting.” I managed to call out. I was close to passing out from exhaustion.“Please, Chris. I don’t want to have to—” Jus...

15 likes

Jello Mold Wars

Submitted to Contest #120

Back in my day, a dispute in my family, now referred to as the jello mold wars, caused hurt feelings that reverberate to this day. It was the 1950’s and I was a senior in high school, living at home with my folks. My relatives were a tightly knit group, socializing mainly with each other. At that time and even today, our family dinners were frequent and not just on holidays. Very important for my story is that none of these events would have been considered complete without some kind of jello mold on the table. And herein lies my story.Let m...

15 likes

Freedom?

Submitted to Contest #120

This is a story of fiction, though it has racial undertones. As such, it may prove sensitive to some people. Meant to teach a lesson rather than spread racism, please excuse any portions that may cause varied emotions among readers. Freedom? “Back in my day, people had different colored skin which caused them no end of trouble.” My sister and I had settled into our pods in the common area of our dwelling. We were excited as our father had finally agreed to read to us from our Great Great Grandpa’s diary which had always held its designated...

14 likes

Memory Lane Is Best Walked With Hot Chocolate

Elisa T-K

Submitted to Contest #120

“Oh, I remember this one,” Jess whispers, pressing his cheek into Mayven’s hair, still curly from when she was asleep some twenty minutes before. “That,” he reaches around his daughter to point at the picture, “is where your papa and I met.”“Really?” The five year old said in an awed whisper. The picture in question, held safely in plastic in the photo album spread open on the counter, was taken in a small diner known as Vera’s. It features Jess, with a cardigan pulled over a button up shirt. His hair is a bit longer, but just as fluffy...

14 likes

The Good Old Days

Patricia Jablonski

Submitted to Contest #120

Some sensitive material about racism. “Back in my day,” Bob said, “kids could play outside until dark and nobody ever worried about ‘em. In fact mothers would shoo ‘em out ‘a the house and make ‘em stay out playing, telling them to not get under foot. Neighbors knew each other and if a kid did something wrong, you better believe their mother would hear about it quicker ’n you could spit. Mama would say, ‘You wait until your father comes home.’ And then the kid would know what was comin’. The belt. Put the fear ‘a God in ‘em for sure. Nobo...

14 likes

Through her eyes

Submitted to Contest #120

It is said that the best place to begin is at the beginning. However, sometimes events tarnish the beginning so harshly that it becomes unrecognizable. It becomes frayed in the places where good once existed and replaced with the pain that seeps into every memory, every moment before THE moment. The moment where a new beginning was created. Sharon There are pictures of them at prom, at Disneyland, camping, and one at a friend’s party where she was kissing his cheek. The news loves to feature that one. There was a time, not long ago, ...

14 likes

The Bus Driver

Submitted to Contest #120

Sensitive themes - racial discrimination, verbal abuse.For centuries, stagecoach drivers used to be responsible for the safety of their passengers through the danger of unknown territory, dealing with not only impassable roads, but the constant threat of robbery, or worse.Bus drivers today, although have paved roads and traffic lights to ease one problem, must still keep guard of their passengers, regardless of the threats each day brings.I greet the old-aged pensioners with a smile.“Morning Delilah”, they say, “bit cold this morning.” And I...

14 likes

....But Not Forgotten

Submitted to Contest #120

On the far left of the multi-matted frame, the sweet face stared back at her. Remembering, his eyes, the color of single malt whiskey. Such a strong contrast to the gray fur. He had shown up on new years day 1999, they had just purchased a small farm, after their return from Texas. Had spent the first day of the year doing the final clean-up, brought the horses, groceries, and a bed, movers expected early the next day. Sara pulled the shall gently back over her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair, the fire crackled on the viewscreen...

14 likes

The Hill

Anoush Hovnanian

Submitted to Contest #120

It’s funny, isn’t it? All of it. Those minutes making moments. Those sounds making words. Those lights making images; images making people. Then people are crowds, crowds have voices. And all of those crowds and voices, they had to be here now, didn’t they? Funny. Is there anything more bleak than dying in a hospital bed, on a busy day? ‘Who are you talking to, granny?’ Asks Emily. Have I been saying all those things out loud? Am I still… No, my lips are touching. Better keep it that way. ‘What does bleak mean?’ She asks. And just like tha...

14 likes

MASKing my nostalgia

Mark Alan

Submitted to Contest #120

I am unashamedly a child of the 80's. After speaking to a good friend, he told me that I should start writing short stories and articles featuring different 80's toys/ cartoons, etc. So, with his encouragement and that of my wife, I set out to write this series. So with that in mind, here we go…"back in my day"... To get things started let's go where illusion is the ultimate weapon. Mobile Armored Strike Kommand. Otherwise known as M.A.S.K. Seriously? Kommand...with a "K". I guess it makes the anagram complete, however there are plenty o...

14 likes

Plan B

Lucille Maria Priolo

Submitted to Contest #120

This story contains sensitive material about the loss of a child. The world completely stopped, everything was spinning. I was finally where I wanted to be in life. I couldn't even begin to comprehend what I have done to deserve this. Everything was going through my head. I was a good kid for my parents, never got in much trouble. I went to college, was good there too. I mean I had some questionable nights but nothing crazy. I graduated and started my career first like everyone told me. I'm independent and a good person. It took me forever...

14 likes

In the Halls of Ebony and Gold

Quincy De Vries

Submitted to Contest #120

When I walk through the obsidian halls of my family’s home, I keep my eyes on the floor as my siblings pass by. Some leave trails of light behind them while others creep by like shadows, and I shiver as their fingers brush my shoulders. I leave no traces as I make my way down the hall. No one will smile at my light or recoil at my presence. The soles of my bare feet should echo and slap against the hard surface but instead my tread is silent. My sister once told me that my siblings are jealous of my ability to silently approach, to curl...

14 likes

My Mother's Miracle

Caryn Nash

Submitted to Contest #120

My Mother’s Miracle My story begins with a series of incidents that encapsulate how my mother who was completely sheltered from the even the slightest adversity faced a situation so demanding it could have destroyed her. But instead, with a strength and vivacity she never knew she possessed, she rose up to meet the challenge that brought about a resolution one can only hope for. The significance of these events will become apparent as I reveal what has become a miracle for my mother, and for me. It was the early 1930’s when my mother, an onl...

14 likes

The Do-Over

Deborah Elliott

Submitted to Contest #120

The Do-Over Deborah Elliott Back in my day. Cat fur for kitten britches, I’ve done it, I’m back in my day. On Sunday, I’d taken a drive through Rives Junction. When I saw a “for sale” sign in the front yard of an old farmhouse that I had always admired, I stopped to ask about it. I couldn’t imagine the Bishops ever selling the place. They’d been sitting on its front porch for as long as I could remember, and they were sitting there now. I ducked under the low-hanging branches of the cherry tree that was coved in fra...

14 likes

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Contest #121

This contest has ended. Thank you for your submissions.

$250

Prize money

244

Entries

163

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Nov 19, 2021 EST

Won by Rebecca Loften 🏆

Title: Meditation

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.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

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