#164: Where I Come From

Elizabeth Brewster wrote a beautiful poem titled ‘Where I Come From’ — this is how it begins:

“People are made of places. They carry with them

hints of jungles or mountains, a tropic grace

or the cool eyes of sea gazers.”

I’ve always loved this poem’s abstracted sense of local identity, so this week I invite you to consider how your characters’ backgrounds affect their personalities and choices.

This week's prompts

Start your story with a character saying “Where I come from, …”

Middle School – 85 stories

Write a story in which someone returns to their hometown.

Adults – 81 stories

Write a story about coming of age in a big city.

High School – 14 stories

Write a story where a local takes a newcomer under their wing.

Adults – 24 stories

Think of someone who stood on the periphery of your childhood memories (a classmate, a teacher, a neighbor) and cast them as the main character of your story.

Middle School – 31 stories

Stories

“The Wisdom of Magic” by Keila Aartila

Submitted to Contest #164

“Where I come from, the land is magical because everyone believes. That’s why I am a unicorn. Mystical, mythological.” I gestured to the horn on top of my head. I knew he was only one of the very few who could see it. He believed.I glanced across the room and caught the reflection of myself in the mirror opposite. I could see my horn shimmering like a mirage.“Tonight, I will tell you the legend of the Tooth Fairy.”My beautiful little boy, curled up under the blankets and nested into his pillow now, turned his big, blue eyes toward me while c...

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“Who Says You Can't Go Home Part 1” by Laura Eliz

Submitted to Contest #164

“Where I come from, things aren’t always open late, so it can be difficult to get things done later in the day. Thanks for getting me in late”, I said to my hair dresser. “Glad to help. Have a great holiday”. “You too!”, I said on the way out. I was getting ready to go home for the holiday. Home, to Nashville, Tennessee, the place of my birth. My parents weren’t from there, but my mom was from White Plains outside of New York City and my dad was from Water Town. It is where I had been born, as both...

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“The Neighborhood Kids” by Cindi Lin

Submitted to Contest #164

This story may contain a sensitive topic including the death of a child.Diego lived at 2301 Fairfax Avenue, Unit 111. That was two doors down from me at 2301 Fairfax Avenue, Unit 113. It was just him and his brother Marco every day. Early in the morning, I’d sit by the dining room window. There they’d be at exactly 7:08 AM walking side by side to school. That’s when I knew to grab my backpack, my mom Linette, a single mom of three, would have packed and ready for me. They were my visual alarm clock.My older brother and older sister were alre...

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“My Dream Hometown” by Faruk Ahmed

Submitted to Contest #164

My Dream Hometown Faruk Ahmed Date: 23-09-2022 Today, I'm grateful that I have been able to do something for the village I was born and raised in. This is my home where I was brought up with immense love and affection. I always had a lifelong dream for it, one that I have fulfilled today. Since the morning my friends and local prominent people have come to visit and congratulate me in my village home, including the local Commissioner, City Mayor and local Journalists! The living space was filled with echoes of laughter a...

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“Centuries Away” by Mask Name

Submitted to Contest #164

[Depictions of Historical War] Centuries Away Undistinguishable eyes glared at the blond-headed pair, the people behind the empty faces forgotten and lost in the vast scapes of memory. Bland red and green eyes pierced into the cold one's soul, searching for something. Something that didn't exist, that couldn't be found. For a demon's ideals of the world. Cold blue and gray eyes shook the heart of the winged one, digging into it and clawing at it. Looking to hurt what was already broken, and to deal what had already be...

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“Dreams of Cloudbase” by P. T. Golden

Submitted to Contest #164

Connie Cullen had dreams. Dreams dashed upon the rocks. The same rocks that shattered her spine, leaving her ‘confined’ to her wheelchair. Confined is not a word by which she wished to be defined. Her dream was to be unbound by everything that dragged her down. Unbound by the force of gravity, set free to touch the sky. Quite simply, she had dreams to fly.Irv and Mary Sobel are an extraordinarily loving couple. Irv had one first love, however, a love he nurtured from the age of five. As soon as Irv could walk and talk, his favorite topic was...

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“Brigadoon” by Trebor Mack

Submitted to Contest #164

Brigadoon“Where I come from, people don’t prattle on about committing suicide.”That’s me saying that. Listen and I’ll explain what I mean.One only has to watch the news each evening on the idiot box. When I say that, I’m referring to the free-to-air news channels. Viewers dub their sets idiot boxes because the news editor of each commercial channel is an idiot.They’d have to be a brick short of a load to approve the rubbish the channels spew. I’ll wager London to a brick (I love my bricks, eh?) that those little men get their rocks off by in...

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“Unwelcome Homecoming” by Trebor Mack

Submitted to Contest #164

Unwelcome Homecoming Jack Jones stood at the small service window of the police department’s Staff Office. He had come to hand in his police identity badge. After a thirty-year career in which he had achieved the rank of a commissioned officer, they had designated a cadet to receive him. A cadet, for f**** sake! “Where’s your boss? Tell him I wish to speak with him.” Jack needed to call on his willpower not to take out his frustration on the teenager. “He’s busy and not seeing anyone.” “I’m here to surrender my I.D. You can inform Superin...

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“The City Cries Blue” by Allyson Pang

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from, everyone avoids the rain. I slip out from beneath an awning and around blue puddles from the last thunderstorm. Windows cry long streaks and buildings are left stained with dark smears. Nature's paint. At least nature couldn't get arrested. After art became illegal, I watched cities lose their souls and the rain tried to paint it blue instead. With free speech and creative voices out of the picture, the government’s new focus is fixing the weather. Except they were the ones to blame when the rain started falling i...

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“Dear Ladybird, I'm homesick...” by J.M. De Jong

Submitted to Contest #164

[Contains a frightening scene]She flashed me the sweetest smile I think I’ve ever seen from someone. It was so pure and as if I was her favorite person in all the world... yet we had only just met twenty minutes ago. She spoke with that special smile, the one I didn’t feel worthy of, “Where I come from...” but then she paused to shove a French fry against her lips before continuing. She handed me one as well, and I tossed it into my mouth and chewed, anxious for her to finish that sentence. “Where I come from... there i...

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“My Heart and the Sea” by Von Armstead

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from, people worship an invisible snake. It’s always been our protector and provider, though no one has actually seen it. Old stories written on yellowed papers named it the Saffron Serpent, and people have called it that ever since. Its skin color is like the peel of a banana, its body stretching across eleven straw houses, its width the height of two food chambers. My parents would tell me about how, at night, people would go missing and food would get stolen by the Saffron Serpent. The only evidence were the slithering and hi...

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“Mrs. Feldman” by F.O. Morier

Submitted to Contest #164

It's Sunday today. I feel like it´s the first Sunday of autumn, and I am having a hard time with it. Last week it was twenty-six degrees. Today only thirteen... I'm a summer person, and at the end of summer my heart always has to break... for a few days anyway. What do we need then? Something that soothes the soul, don´t we? Yes! Thinking of rainy Sunday afternoons from my childhood always comforts me on grey days like today. My grandmother would bake flan (the best for miles in the area), and my grandfather would tell stories. W...

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“I belong to Glasgow ” by Lorraine Murtagh

Submitted to Contest #164

When I visit my birthplace, my stomach simultaneously churns with excitement and dread. 'Glasgow' is the word I always give my English students to define the word juxtaposition. It never ceases to make me smile when I read out the description from the dictionary, 'the fact of two things being seen or placed close together with contrasting effect'. Glasgow is defined by its past and present and the image it portrays to the rest of the world. Gritty, warm and honest. There has been no planning with this trip, deciding only to come at th...

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“Budai Rudolf - A Prisoner of War ” by Monu Singh

Submitted to Contest #164

I woke up in a panic, almost choking on my saliva, coughing, and short of breath. There was not a single drop of water in the cell, and the guards on night duty were either sleeping or playing some card games, with no one to offer water. A few of my cell mates stared at me as I recovered while the others were still sound asleep. My tolerance to the stench of human ordure, molds, rotting flesh, the barred windows, cement walls, and iron bars with a metal sliding door has progressively decreased each day, month, and year that has passed. I w...

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“Shadows” by Ross Dyter

Submitted to Contest #164

The sound of hammer on anvil rang harsh in Samuel’s ears, as he stood in the muddy street. The steady rhythm like a heartbeat for the small town, each blow breaking time into moments. He looked around, tavern, clang, store, clang, apothecary, clang, alley, clang, shadow, clang, shadow, clang, shadow. He turned more quickly now, eyes darting left and right, heart racing. They were on both sides, spreading out, behind posts, in doorways, ragged, hunched, dark. Just the glint of eyes; eyes following him. His bag slipped from his shoulder. He pu...

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$250

Prize money

235

Contest entries

91

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 23, 2022 EST

Won by Lindsay Flo 🏆

Title: Mothering

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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#164: Where I Come From

This week's prompts

Start your story with a character saying “Where I come from, …”

Write a story in which someone returns to their hometown.

Write a story about coming of age in a big city.

Write a story where a local takes a newcomer under their wing.

Think of someone who stood on the periphery of your childhood memories (a classmate, a teacher, a neighbor) and cast them as the main character of your story.