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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#128: Tea Time

Did you know that January is National Hot Tea Month? Tea is a wonderfully diverse beverage that’s enjoyed in many different ways all over the world. It can be a soothing drink, a social drink, and has even sparked conflicts (think the Boston Tea Party, or the First Opium War).

Inspired by the history and cultural significance of this beverage, here are the prompts for this week’s contest:

This week's prompts

Start your story with someone making a cup of tea — either for themself or for someone else.

Fluff – 171 stories

Set your story in a tea house.

Spring – 36 stories

Write a story about a tea party that your character is reluctant to go to.

Summer – 44 stories

Write about a character who’s dying to “spill the tea” (gossip) about something.

Fluff – 21 stories

Write a story about a conflict that breaks out over something ordinary (like tea, perhaps).

High School – 26 stories

Stories

“Spilled Tea” by Bob Faszczewski

Submitted to Contest #128

Spilled Tea As Cassie brewed the cup of tea she reflected on how the comfort and peace of her current retired life at “the Shore” contrasted with her past life. The feeling of the...

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“Ledrith's Remorse” by Jason Grimberg

Submitted to Contest #128

Warning: This story contains attempted rape, physical violence, and murder. The smell of the herbs hung thick in the air, far too potent to be considered pleasant, as the pestle pounded and ground down into the mortar. Of course, a potent smell for this particular brew was a good thing. Medicinal tea may not have been something anyone liked to sip on, but when it would soothe the throat, fight a fever, and aid in sleep, an ill patient would gulp it down like a pint normally. The young apprentice, Ledrith, had been training ...

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“Crisis and Chamomile” by T.M. Navarro

Submitted to Contest #128

The kettle squealed, but it was soundless against the thunder. The house groaned and shuddered. The cookie jar jumped, scooting closer to the edge, and it's little lid clinked against the edges, spiralling shut. Water leaped out of the vase, browned with time, and the dead lilies swung around, their brittle, dead stem splintering upon impact. Thunder rocked the house again. Grandma wasn't bothered. She stirred honey into those two cups of tea, steam twisting and twirling upwards, the scent inviting a sense of calm to set...

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“Early Hours” by Pat Edinger

Submitted to Contest #128

I maneuver my way around the countertop, scouring its marble surface for a very basic thing, a form of tea. I stop and turn, almost knocking over a dish rack and busting all of the plates and cups suspended and drying. I panic and dash forwards and catch the collapsing rack. It’s around five o’clock in the morning and, to clarify, I am not a morning person. And so this, this half asleep, confused, and groggy state; it’s normal for me this early in the morning. But then again, that's only because I haven’t had my tea yet. Some prefer the ugly...

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“Ripples in the Mug” by Sage Henry

Submitted to Contest #128

I stared into the blue mug in front of me, watching as ripples emerged from the edges. Each one moved through the dark tea, splashing little droplets across the inside. I wanted to be listening, really I did. But I couldn’t seem to pay attention to what he was saying. The mug held me captive, its contents stealing my attention. I tried to focus on something, but the ripples were all that I could manage. They were calmer than he was. Easy, consistent, even though their waves broke open against the porcelain mug. More would always be there to ...

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“Good Morning” by Valencia T

Submitted to Contest #128

Good Morning It was a cold winter morning, one had already had breakfast and a snack before 10:00 am. Huh, I wonder why? What time did one get up to start the day? It was around 6:20 am on a Thursday. She put on her pot for Tea, while deciding between Turmeric, Green, or any oh other flavors. Yes, it was options. She wonders what I should choose today. She thought let me go get some fresh air. Cool breeze as the wind blows her hat off. As she looks around it's lights on from multiple neighbors. What now she thinks. Ok replay, in fro...

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“Home Help” by Ann Martin

Submitted to Contest #128

HOME HELP Ann Martin Trigger Warning: Self-harm By the time Ellie went to make them a cup of tea, Marian knew she would get the job. Interview? Hardly. Two strangers talking through tears. It was hardly a job either. Ssix hours a week light housework. But it would serve its purpose, which was to give her something to think about, something to pour into the emptiness. A quick scan of the room while Ellie Roberts was in the kitchen told Marian a lot. Furniture good, but shabby. Carpet ditto and with the kind of indelible stains that come wi...

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“Tea with Her” by Keinyn Hudson

Submitted to Contest #128

The rain is pouring down, thundering on the metal roof of the shack. Gazing with concern out of the fogged up window, the man watches the rain drops collect on the glass. One by one they combine, till their weight suddenly pulls them down in urgent rivulets. ‘She should be back by now’, he thinks to himself. He doesn’t seem to notice as an airy whistle begins to sound. As the whistle sharply rises to a shrill scream he shakes himself out of his thoughts. Standing up with a groan, he feels his knees pop; this da...

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“Bittersweet” by Rafael Whiterock

Submitted to Contest #128

She closes the door quickly on her way in so only a little of the cold October air will make its way inside. The dull ache in her knees doesn’t surprise her, seeing as she had spent quite a while crouched in the chill of the garden. ‘Now it will all be worth it’, she thinks and makes her way to the stove with her treasures clutched in hand. The pot of water was already at a boil, so she takes it off the hot surface. One by one she adds the herbs into a muslin bag: fresh Lemon Balm leaves to help her fatigue; Lemongrass stalks for her digesti...

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“His Nightly Tea” by Christopher Linehan

Submitted to Contest #128

The sound began, whining, hissing, cutting through the air with sharp, jagged notes – the record spinning, his head spinning, the world spinning. This was the beginning of his nightly ritual. His tea kettle began to sound in unison with the spinning world, the water ready for transmogrification. As Midge Ure began to wail over the synthesizers he realized that he neither wanted to dance nor to weep over a life gone by. He returned to the ancient phonograph, desperate to stop living out the memory of love that died. Thumbing through a stack...

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“Tea Regulation” by Joyce Hightower

Submitted to Contest #128

The Tea regulation Charity fumbled trying to put the key in her apartment door lock. The dark hallway, her gloved hands as well as the folders and books in her arms made it more difficult than usual. As soon as she was able to slip the key in track, she opened the door and quickly slipped inside. With a deep sigh, she relocked it and dumped the armful on the table. She hurried into the small kitchen and turned the stove burner on high beneath the water kettle. Retracing her steps, she unbuttoned her coat and flung it over the back...

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“Earl Grey” by Paul Neiderman

Submitted to Contest #128

The wind battered frantically against the pod’s hull like a live thing trying to get in. Jacob couldn’t be sure it wasn’t. During the short periods when he was still awake, he sometimes heard faint rumblings and keenings outside that sounded distinctly biological— though it seemed insane to imagine that anything could live out there, in the perpetual violence of the alien storm. He’d kept the viewing ports closed, in any case. It wasn’t on now, but if he tapped the small screen in the pod’s control panel ...

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“Pokhara in Love” by Eric Holdorf

Submitted to Contest #128

Pokhara in Love “You don’t have to do this,” Cathy said across three locals coming the other way as she dodged around them and a large pothole in the path between the dirty clay-brick buildings. It had rained hard earlier in the night, so the potholes in the cobbles were filled with murky water, and the smell of sewage was seeping up from below. The potholes, like the city, hid things, and if you were patient, reminded you of the benefits of ignorance. Cathy ran ahead and stood ...

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“Sunkaraku” by Maria Avisal

Submitted to Contest #128

The low-level gnawing guilt Diana felt about taking a few hours off from document review for the Steinberg case had not ruined her enjoyment of the Philadelphia Museum of Art yet; in fact it had the opposite effect of reminding her of who she was before law school and before her current 90 hour work weeks in corporate law. What she remembered most from her undergraduate art history degree related to the classical European artists showcased in other wings of the museum, but she had made a ...

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“No Sugar, Thank You” by Audrey Polichnia

Submitted to Contest #128

Audrey Polichnia &nb...

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$250

Prize money

298

Contest entries

160

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jan 14, 2022 EST

Won by Jay Wayne 🏆

Title: my fellow passerine

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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