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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#151: Back to the Reboot

This past week we’ve been inspired by Lightyear, Top Gun: Maverick, and all the prequels, sequels, and reboots hitting our screens lately. For many of us, reboots inspire a sense of nostalgia, or déjà vu. But how do you interpret them? Do you welcome new creatives and their reimaginings of the past, or do you crave something fresh in its own right?

Of course, repetition can be creepy — and it can even become boring — but it can also open the doorway to improvement and growth. However you feel about the ever-rebirthing media cycle surrounding us, we hope you’ll find inspiration in these week’s prompts:

This week's prompts

Write about a character who wakes up in their past life, or as a future reincarnation of themself.

Fantasy – 54 stories

Write about somebody breaking a cycle.

Narrative – 42 stories

Write about a character who keeps ending up in the same place.

Sad – 41 stories

Repeat the same line of dialogue, from the same character, three separate times.

Middle School – 58 stories

Write about a character who’s expected to follow in someone’s footsteps.

Kids – 38 stories

Stories

“Destiny of Dust and Dirt” by Chenchen Du

Submitted to Contest #151

The thing that people don't seem to get about reincarnation is that people aren't always people. The Creation Goddess Nǚwā was only ever a human for a times in her life, at the very beginning. In between, she had been everything from a tree, a snake or a fly. When she was a tree, the sky would gleam with distant glee, happy that she wouldn't bother them for a few hundred years until she had grown tall and wild. She was small yet headstrong as a seed, growing from the concrete of a prison where human skulls pile up like layers of a sw...

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“At Least Try to Be Normal” by Kimberly Espeland

Submitted to Contest #151

At Least Try to be Normal By Kimberly Espeland At the sound of the buzzer, Bachelor Number One sat down across from Kelly at the plastic folding table, and she began. “Hey, I’m Kelly: I was born here in Seattle, I like hiking, and I was almost cast on MTV’s The Real World.” In the meeting room behind the Caffeinery, the smell of stale coffee permeated the humid air. “I’m David. Didn’t that show air, like, five years ago? You must be 25, 26?” His button-down shirt was creased in squares, right out of the package, and spattered wit...

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“The Dangers of Deadlines” by Daniel Jankowski

Submitted to Contest #151

“Watch your step.”Harry jumped, nearly dropping his briefcase. Turning to see what he had thought was just a cardboard cutout next to the turnstyle was an actual living person. A ticketmaster, adorned in perfect navy blue suit and cap, stood a foot away from Harry, his brilliantly white teeth shining in a wide grin.Harry did not smile back. Mouth slightly agape, he stared at the, quite literally, picture perfect man. He wasn’t sure if the stranger was an actual subway operator, or maybe just some stunt set up by a group of punks with hidden ...

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“the days of my lives” by Victoria Telford

Submitted to Contest #151

TW; mental health; lobotomy; drugs; "I am nothing. Nobody. Not important. One of billions. Not special in the least." This is what I use to repeat to myself every day. Pathetic, I know. You would, too, if you had been subjected to the lonely, guilt-riddled, tortured existence I had. Not that I'm blaming anyone. I can fully accept the consequences for my actions. I have seen many places. I have passed through the hands of many men, and some women. Most of them discarded me as fast as they found me, something I'm no...

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“Sour Apples” by Denae Burns

Submitted to Contest #151

TW domestic/emotional abuse May spits the chunk of apple into the sink, grimacing. “No matter how ripe they look, they’re sour!” she mutters to herself, inspecting the fruit in her hand. Symmetrical and without a bruise in sight. Firm. Solid. Scarlet, all ‘round. And sour for the third year in a row. “Are you gonna eat that or just stare at it?” comes a voice through the open front door, followed by a rather stout woman with a wide smile. “Charlotte, you startled me!” May exclaims, sweeping anxious eyes from her friend to the orchard be...

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“The Worst ” by K.L. Janca

Submitted to Contest #151

Saint's pits. I'm Marina again. Marina is the worst. Her tone is nasal, she can't see anything, and she seems brainless. And she lives in the medieval age, where everyone smells. Bad. They all smell terrible. Women are expected to stay home, have babies, and be boring, basically. I wake up in bed next to Alan, Marina’s husband. My husband. I am Mariana, or I was, centuries ago. It’s not that I actively remember my past lives. I have moments of Deja Vu like everyone else, but hon...

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“Reload” by M B

Submitted to Contest #151

Staff Sergeant Jimenez took in his surroundings as he tightly gripped his M4 and exhaled. He was in a once state-of-the-art facility... now a disaster area. Bullet holes lined the walls, expensive computers were smashed and destroyed, two corpses lay on the floor in white lab coats... ...‘Brilliant minds’ that had tampered with something they shouldn’t have, Jimenez noted darkly as he made his way to the metal door that slowly slid open upon his approach. Red alarm lights flashed in the hall and sparks sputtered from the flickering...

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“Two Old Women on a Roof” by Cam McDermid

Submitted to Contest #151

Two old women are sitting on their roof looking out over the neighborhood, smoking cigarettes and drinking rum. Normally they reminisce about the past, because that’s what you do when you’re old and you only have a few years left. Anytime a new memory pops up in their minds, they pounce on it. They clap their hands together and open their eyes wide and douse themselves in honey to better stick themselves to that memory and absorb all its color until the ants come crawling, and it’s all forgotten again. But these old ladies aren’t reminiscing...

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“I was Floating, Drifting, Flying... I was Dreaming” by Victoria Hillis

Submitted to Contest #151

I was dreaming, floating, hovering above myself, watching her make decisions I couldn’t control. When she moved, I moved, as if she was holding a balloon. She pulled the string and I followed, suspended in the air, slightly behind.I called to her, to myself, “Where are we going?” She didn’t answer. She didn’t hear. She didn’t know I was there.She was walking. Walking and walking and walking. I was floating behind her. Floating and floating and floating. Where we were going, I couldn’t tell. There was no light and it was cold. The air was wet...

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“a chronic condition” by Jay Wayne

Submitted to Contest #151

Content Warning: Mentioned suicide attempt, mental health issues, character death It’s the first day of the new year, and Jasper wakes up in a bed that is not his own.The first thing that registers is the cold, and when he reaches for Charlie’s warmth his fingers instead meet a cool plaster wall. He jerks upright, alarmed and confused, and almost falls out of a bed that is far smaller than what he’s used to. He blinks the sleep from his eyes as he adjusts to the dim light. He’s in a dark room hung with posters and sticky notes.His room.Th...

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“Mr. Icarus and Lucky #31” by B.T Beauregard

Submitted to Contest #151

//TW: Language. Suicide.// Leo sits straight-backed on a bench on the south end of the Isabella bridge. He had half-sprinted and half-stumbled down its entire length–a good three miles–trying to build up the nerve to jump. The drop was larger than he had anticipated. This was not a bad thing per se, considering his goals, but it was intimidating nonetheless. There is no wind today, so the water is still. The young sunset turns it a soft pink. The water is so far away it doesn't look like water. It looks like the glass top of a fin...

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“A Long Haul Trucker Gets a New Job Assignment” by Bruce Friedman

Submitted to Contest #151

Author's warning: adult languageGreetings to all of you and thanks for taking the time to listen to my story. I don’t get to talk to many people and am pleased to be having this conversation. I’m Nick, a long-distance trucker: a disappearing job and way of life. I drive my 18-wheeler coast-to-coast weekly with various kinds of cargo. My rig is actually my home – I don’t have a fixed address. Long-haul trucking is a weekly, boring journey across our highways, passing anonymously through truck stops and chain restaurants. Why do I do it? ...

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“Who's Cassie?” by Krysta Anderson

Submitted to Contest #151

A dog barking in the distance stirred me from my sleep. I tossed over to my other side groggily, not really caring about what time it was. The barking continued, making me groan with annoyance. Rolling back over, I opened one eye to glare at the clock on my nightstand. The time read four AM. Sitting up whilst rubbing my eyes, I thought to myself, why the hell was a dog barking excessively at four in the fricken morning? A soft knock sounded on my bedroom door. &nbsp...

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“Footsteps” by Jed Cope

Submitted to Contest #151

“It wasn’t me.” They all say that, or most of them anyways. When it gets to this stage of the game, the ones that admit it are just as much of a problem. Those ones enjoy themselves too much. Revel in it. I suppose the deniers do too. It’s all a game to them and they think they have already won by the time they are sitting here. I look into those baby blue eyes of hers and have to remind myself where we are. Who we are. At another time and in another place… Yeah right, Arnold! Who you kiddin’? She’s way, way outta your league. ...

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“To Mama” by Muna Moo

Submitted to Contest #151

"Write about somebody breaking a cycle." To Mama, Thank you for you for giving me life, I know that the labour must've been painful because that was all you talked about when we fought. Thank you for making sacrifices, yet always choosing to sacrifice my opinions for your endeavours. But you always apologised, then continued starting the cycle again, a routine that casted spells. You've always enervated my emotional state because of how you would shower me with affection like rain does for plants. But even if rain was good, it'd end up t...

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$250

Prize money

233

Contest entries

110

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jun 24, 2022 EST

Won by Kelsey H 🏆

Title: The Lake

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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