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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#135: I Wanna See You Be Brave

Looking at the children’s books I used to read, there’s a lot of emphasis on being courageous. It makes sense — growing up means facing one tough new thing after another. But in adulthood, we stop thinking about bravery so much, as if the concept is confined to the chivalrous men and misfit animals of fairy tales and picture books.

This week, let’s think about what bravery (or its opposite) really means, in an everyday context, a fantasy world, or a children’s story.

🥇 Winner

“Home of the Brave” by Thom With An H

🏆 Winner of Contest #135

A mom’s job is never truly finished—Elise knew this instinctively when her son was born. For at least the hundredth time, she sat next to his bed in that chair mending his quilt. There was no way of knowing, the day she bought it at a flea market, that it would become her son’s most valued possession. To call it a quilt stretched the definition as it was nothing more than a thousand pieces of oddly shaped swatches stitched together, layer after layer, until the whole of it was thick enough to hold in the warmth of a small boy's bod...

231 comments 231

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⭐️ Shortlisted

“THE SEA SPIDER AND THE BLUE HAIRED BOY” by Theresa Anna

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

When the giant sea spider swallowed the entire town of Cobble, it was decided that something should be done about it. Flee, the next town over and slightly higher up, had watched the unfortunate event from their balconies and terraces, very pale and very shaky, and also very quiet—in case the sea spider decided to look up and think about dessert. But lucky for the town of Flee, the sea spider had poor vision. He was old—old as the sea in which he inhabited—and every century or so felt peckish for a town or two, depending on his appetite....

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“Backpedal” by Caryn Devincenti

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

BACKPEDAL I hoist the bag over my shoulder, like some kind of ersatz Santa, but instead of delivering toys to tots, I’m bearing gently used wardrobe items to those in need. I was once them. One in need of salvation. 1992. There’s deadness in his eyes when he strikes me. Like those fish you see lined up in rows, packed on beds of ice at crowded markets. I don’t recognize him when he looks this way. My brain screams, get up, get out, get away, but my body is paralyzed on the kitchen linoleum, the sting of his slap a warm tingle on my cheek....

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“Coloring” by Janet Change Balda

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

Today is Saturday March two and I brung 4 of my crayons because mommy said I’m not allowed to bring all 8. I brung red, blue, and yellow because in Kindergarten we learned that you can make all the colors with red, blue, and yellow, only I don’t think you can make pink. Pink is my favorite color. I also brung brown because, in my Barbie coloring book, the page I want to do today, Barbie is holding a puppy and the puppy is brown and I don’t know how to make brown with red, blue, and yellow, even though I’m in Grade One now. Maybe we learn bro...

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“Oskar” by David Ader

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

OskarThe smiles of the small crowd on the street disappeared faster than the people who hurried away from the boys in the brown outfits. Yelling profanities despite the presence of children who’d been enjoying the man’s show, they kicked his table over before they set to kicking the man to the ground and then kicking him more. The tools of his trade, the rings, the cups, the case, weren’t so badly hurt as the man seeming to claw his way through the sidewalk to safety. He crawled to the gutter – thank goodness the rained had flushed the rubbi...

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This week's prompts

Write about a hero or a villain deathly afraid of doing their job.

Adventure – 37 stories

Start your story with someone stepping outside their comfort zone.

Middle School – 60 stories

Set your story in a town full of cowards.

Fiction – 31 stories

Write a story where fortune doesn’t favor the brave.

Thriller and Suspense – 38 stories

Write about a casual act of bravery.

Narrative – 46 stories

Stories

“Home of the Brave” by Thom With An H

🏆 Winner of Contest #135

A mom’s job is never truly finished—Elise knew this instinctively when her son was born. For at least the hundredth time, she sat next to his bed in that chair mending his quilt. There was no way of knowing, the day she bought it at a flea market, that it would become her son’s most valued possession. To call it a quilt stretched the definition as it was nothing more than a thousand pieces of oddly shaped swatches stitched together, layer after layer, until the whole of it was thick enough to hold in the warmth of a small boy's bod...

231 comments 231

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“War Crimes” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #135

Andriy watched his father move an anti-tank mine out of the roadway using his bare hands, all the while smoking a Chinese cigarette, the tobacco loose and pungent. “Your name, Andriy, means manly and strong,” his father explained through clenched teeth, delicately carrying the explosive. “I named you for days like these. You will be a soldier. A warrior.” “How can I be a warrior? I’m twelve,” Andriy replied, standing a ways off, hands at the ready to cover his ears. “Twelve is old enough to be the greatest of warriors. Yo...

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“Metropolis Angst” by Kathleen Fine

Submitted to Contest #135

Clark took a sip of his coffee as he scrolled through the news stories for the day. “Shit!” he cursed as a dribble of coffee dripped down his chin and spilled onto his notepad. Even though he had been working remotely since the pandemic hit, he couldn’t get used to the cramped workspace and tight living quarters his apartment had turn into. He clicked on the link to the story he submitted yesterday evening for The Daily Planet and read: Burglary on Main Street By: Clark Kent Yesterday evening, there was a burglary at Pop’s Drug Store o...

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“Snail Man” by Story Time

Submitted to Contest #135

Picture it. A shadowy figure moves through an alleyway. Past a tabby cat. Around a dumpster filled with refuse. Dancing over muddy puddles that reflect neon signs advertising coming attractions. A spy movie. Perhaps a prestige picture. The mysterious and nefarious being makes his way up to a couple waiting with their young child for a taxi to whisk them back to suburbia. Back to a pleasant house in a pleasant neighborhood where there are no alleyways or honking horns or men who know nothing but darkness in their hearts. The kind of dar...

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“THE SEA SPIDER AND THE BLUE HAIRED BOY” by Theresa Anna

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

When the giant sea spider swallowed the entire town of Cobble, it was decided that something should be done about it. Flee, the next town over and slightly higher up, had watched the unfortunate event from their balconies and terraces, very pale and very shaky, and also very quiet—in case the sea spider decided to look up and think about dessert. But lucky for the town of Flee, the sea spider had poor vision. He was old—old as the sea in which he inhabited—and every century or so felt peckish for a town or two, depending on his appetite....

Read story

“The Front Line” by Howard Halsall

Submitted to Contest #135

Bohdan Kozak had lived on the outskirts of Kyiv all his life and he’d seen Russian tanks trundle past his front door before. Thirty-five years ago, his house had trembled on its foundations as dozens of heavy old Soviet T-62’s retreated East to Moscow. He could still recall the thunderous approach and the sulphurous fumes left in their wake. His wife, Oxana, had compared them to a flight of cantankerous dragons suffering from acute halitosis. They’d laughed at the time and brushed off their home’s minor structural damage as one of life’s unf...

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“Yellow Town” by Kathryn Gabrielle

Submitted to Contest #135

The town is named "Yellow Town" because there is not one single upstanding citizen within earshot. Dirt streets and tumbleweeds spin yarns of "would of" and "should have been" but never "proud of." Any shaky-kneed varmint that crosses the street will not face up to danger or principle. Courage and friendship are replaced by shaky knees and perspiration. A Sheriff's Star is a symbol of courage but the man behind the star is a paper hero. He looks like a sheriff, walks like a sheriff but when the going gets rough and tumble, you might as well ...

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“The girls chose Hawaii” by Francis Daisy

Submitted to Contest #135

*Warning: mention of cancer in storyMy daughter and I sat on the hard bench. She was in her sophomore year of high school, yet she still held my hand as we sat there together. We were both lost in our own thoughts. Watching. Staring. Fascinated by the two girls in front of us who were moving so gracefully. They wore simple black dresses that seemed to make their dance appear ever more elegant as they moved to the music. I couldn’t tell you the tune. It was melancholy and peaceful and sweet. Just like the girls who were dancing. One of the gi...

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“Little Wounds” by Hannah P. Simmons

Submitted to Contest #135

CONTENT WARNING: death Something was different. Alex had been through the hall door down into the basement many times before. But when he stepped on to the cold floor that day, and felt the shadows closing in around him, it seemed he had entered a new world. It was frightening. His mother was already sitting in front of the computer, her long nails clicking against the keyboard as she rapidly typed. She didn’t acknowledge him until he was standing right beside her. “Go lie down. You don’t need the password yet.”&nbsp...

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“I'm Home” by Ashmit Kar

Submitted to Contest #135

No one ever tells you the beginning, the moment when time seems to stretch. I always found time to be such a malleable thing. Fragile, in its own right. Yet we handle it so carelessly, blissfully unbothered as traces of it slip through our fingers like so many immutable grains into a never-ending crescendo. And all we are left with, in the end, is this feeling of dread, our heart pumping, pumping, pumping. Beating with all its might to keep us here, now. To remind us firmly of the ground beneath our feet, the concrete sweating with the after...

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“Backpedal” by Caryn Devincenti

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

BACKPEDAL I hoist the bag over my shoulder, like some kind of ersatz Santa, but instead of delivering toys to tots, I’m bearing gently used wardrobe items to those in need. I was once them. One in need of salvation. 1992. There’s deadness in his eyes when he strikes me. Like those fish you see lined up in rows, packed on beds of ice at crowded markets. I don’t recognize him when he looks this way. My brain screams, get up, get out, get away, but my body is paralyzed on the kitchen linoleum, the sting of his slap a warm tingle on my cheek....

Read story

“Coloring” by Janet Change Balda

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #135

Today is Saturday March two and I brung 4 of my crayons because mommy said I’m not allowed to bring all 8. I brung red, blue, and yellow because in Kindergarten we learned that you can make all the colors with red, blue, and yellow, only I don’t think you can make pink. Pink is my favorite color. I also brung brown because, in my Barbie coloring book, the page I want to do today, Barbie is holding a puppy and the puppy is brown and I don’t know how to make brown with red, blue, and yellow, even though I’m in Grade One now. Maybe we learn bro...

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“Don't Look Back” by McCampbell Molly

Submitted to Contest #135

Yanti was terrified. Her heart was beating so loudly in her chest that she could physically feel it. She could feel the panic of those around her. Her own panic escalated. She listened to the noise and turmoil around her. The waters were rising. Huge amounts of water came gushing down from the Gandhi Tal to the Mandakini river at about 8:30 PM the evening before, washing away everything in its path. The rains were unprecedented and unlike anything they had ever seen. People were afraid to leave at night, but a few did. Taking the only ponies...

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“All Roads Lead to Trouble” by Robin Martin

Submitted to Contest #135

Laura gnawed on her bottom lip. She knew better than to take the creepy, pothole-riddled, old highway. But she was already late getting home, and the dark, empty road would cut ten minutes off her travel time.Alone in her car, she could still hear her mother's voice rasping in her ear. "Come straight home after work. No dilly-dallying! And stay off that highway, young lady. That way leads to trouble."In truth, the old highway eventually led to the city, with its trendy bistros, clubs, bright lights, music, and laughing, happy people—all the ...

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“The Blind Date” by Zack Powell

Submitted to Contest #135

As soon as I enter the building, a voice in my head tells me that it's not too late, that I can turn around right now, scurry down the sidewalk, scalp my ticket to the first person I see, and save myself an hour or two of embarrassment. I know how these things end. But then the ticket taker holds out his hand, clammy in my own when we exchange the paper stub, and the art museum welcomes me back. Inside, the world is drenched in color. The walls are dyed a muted shade of blue, crammed with portraits and landscapes and tableaus, hues so rich...

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$250

Prize money

212

Contest entries

154

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Mar 04, 2022 EST

Won by Thom With An H 🏆

Title: Home of the Brave

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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