#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

“Drowning In Your Thoughts” by Tori Harrison

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from, you are completely alone with your thoughts. There is no one else in this world but you, or at least that’s what it feels like. Usually this is the part where I give you my backstory and tell you my name and stuff like that. This isn’t that kind of story, because backstories are overrated. I’m not gonna say my name or anything about my life because with the way this story is going it really won’t matter much but, if it really means that much to you, then you can just call me Ace. I’ll keep this short, I live in a pla...

6 comments 6

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“Unlocked ” by Jennifer Cameron

Submitted to Contest #164

Leaning on the car bonnet I stared out across the fields sliced into sage squares and grouped together buildings lit up under the fading sun. The time of pre evening where bubblegum pinks and honey oranges bleed across the sky and the moon looks like a pale wisp the clouds forgot to take with them. ”Home.” I whispered over the cliff edge, watching it all below. All the lives that never stopped when I left. I pulled a hastily rolled up cigarette out my pocket and amused myself in silence for a few minutes whilst the tip burned and ash fell in...

9 comments 9

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“Periphery” by Sherri Moorer

Submitted to Contest #164

Golden sunlight sparkled in the sapphire sky, raining sparkles on the sliding board and shiny chains of the swing as Elora pumped her legs into the air. It was exactly as she remembered it, from the freshly mown grass in the yard to the green and white and green playset that her father and grandfather built for her. How she missed this! You can never go home. “Says who?” she laughed, hearing her childish voice on the cool fall breeze. A maroon sedan pulled up in the driveway next to the house. She recognized the tall woman who stepped ...

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“At the End of the Street” by Susan Whitlock

Submitted to Contest #164

Up the street, Sharon walked: summer, winter, autumn, spring. Over the mound of weedy grass that led from the white curb to the first swaying trees. The trail led through some brush and down a path on a tree-dotted hill. Then there was a wide, pan-shaped meadow of dirt and grass and little treelings that held out hopping, chirping, buzzing, golden days. Alone or with friends she would go; drawn by some magical string that connected her navel to “the woods”.&nbsp...

3 comments 3

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“The Edge” by Gregg Voss

Submitted to Contest #164

August “Where I come from, it’s the bottom line that counts. Business is a zero-sum game.” Gerald’s initial collegial introduction, which included a rundown of his various high-profile achievements on behalf of Severance Incorporated, Westchester County’s largest employer, had now devolved into sarcasm as he held up his palm in an apparent effort to make Catherine feel like a doofus. But she foresaw ...

3 comments 3

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“Freefall” by Austin Baker

Submitted to Contest #164

“With a mouth like yours, you better learn how to fight or run away,” is probably the second-best piece of advice I’ve ever received. I was given it by a big oaf that also happened to be my classmate. Can’t remember his name, but it starts with an A. Adam, Alex, Asshole? Yeah, that last one. He taught it to me while he was smashing my face in, his buddies cheering him on and watching out for teachers somewhere behind him. I couldn’t see them. Couldn’t see anything except the concrete towers stretching up to blot out the only sunlight this l...

4 comments 4

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“Me and Stanley” by Kit Fremont

Submitted to Contest #164

“Where I come from, you take what you’re given and you’re happy to have it,” he said as he took his eyes off the road and glared at me for a quick second. I could feel the judgment literally shooting through his pupils and piercing my soul as he said it.I turned my eyes back to the road at about the same time he did, so I don’t think he saw me roll them almost all the way to the back of my head. And he definitely didn’t hear me scoff over the road noise. That would have started an entirely new scolding session. This wasn’t the first tim...

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“I Didn't Realize ” by Kim Walker

Submitted to Contest #164

I didn’t ask the question, where am I from?... but once. Until she was gone! The look on her face didn’t say: I don’t know. It said have I not done a good job? Barbara was the oldest of twelve children. So, caring for others was expected and necessary.Growing up in the thirties, her parents worked for the local market owner. My grandmother Rainey, my mom’s mother worked as a maid in the Pair’s house. As a child, I remember mom telling the story of her birth on the floor of that store. She would say that grandma had to pay for the loss i...

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“Home Again” by Kate Crain

Submitted to Contest #164

What happened to this place…? The grey clouds blanketed the sun, stopping its warm rays from pouring from the sky; instead casting an eerie gloom over the town. It was easy to recognize the chilled October breeze as it blew shriveled up leaves along the pavement and wrestled with Robyn’s golden locks of hair, sending a violent chill up her spine. She tugged the hood of her sweatshirt over her head, hoping to conserve a bit of heat, and listened to the unsettling silence. Not a soul was in sight. Silver tinsel still hung on displa...

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“Where I come from...” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #164

“Where I come from, we don’t do it like that.” That’s not the first time that I heard Allen say that. It began when I picked him up at the airport. I was waiting for what I thought was where his plane was letting off its passengers, when he snuck up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned around, those were the first words he said as he pointed at something at the nearest cafeteria.&nbsp...

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“I am Staussey, Dragon” by Tanya Humphreys

Submitted to Contest #164

Warning: contains a bit of gore. From the height of my mountain aerie the voices of the men reached my ears from far, far below. They sounded angry and full of righteous malice…but it wasn’t a sound I’d not heard before. As a dragon of the Gemutlich Order, I had been blamed and hunted and followed by these types of voices all my life. I peered out over the edge of the cliff that was my front stoop, not worried that they would see me, for this cavern was higher in the sky than even The Zugspitze, the frosted tip of which I could...

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“The birdhouse maker ” by Dawn Kaltenbaugh

Submitted to Contest #164

He woke up and prayed every morning. He never really asked for anything, just thanked to the Lord for his life, his wife, and the rowdy family next door. He almost felt like their second grampa, and they often made him smile as he watched them play. It was a large family, and it would take a mean old Grinch not to fall for their cuteness. But to him, it was a chance to be a friend who could give produce from his garden, make toys for in his woodshop, or just lend a friendly ear. So he was as close to them as a mere neighbor could be. He ...

5 comments 5

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“MISSING LEAVES” by Mae Siu-Wai Stroshane

Submitted to Contest #164

Where I come from, people’s family names come first. Family trees trace long ancestral lines back to a home village, and those who fall from their branches become missing leaves.My father came into Hong Kong along with thousands of refugees from China’s mainland who were desperate to escape Mao’s regime. He could have been the first leaf to fall from an ancient family tree. I’ll never know.My mother was an orphan, also from Guangdong Province. Right from the start, then, I was a missing leaf from two family trees.My parents met at the r...

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“Surprising his favorite teacher with a special telephone call” by Michael Heavener

Submitted to Contest #164

Shoes—c'mon—what 11-year-old boy looks at his teacher's feet? She was always standing where he couldn't see over the heads of his classmates, except during tests when she sat with her feet behind her desk. Maybe he should have looked, given that Mrs. Arrington was his favorite teacher. It was 1962 and he was 11 years old. He had just moved to big city Seattle from faraway Farmington, New Mexico. It was the "Century 21" World's Fair and for a boy on the verge of growing up, that was an irresistible attraction. Sixth grade in a new school wa...

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“The Man I Never Knew ” by Jeneane Vanderhoof

Submitted to Contest #164

"Your grandfather was always the silent type", people said, many times, throughout my life. Most of all saying this, his wife. I always thought it was an understatement, he went well beyond this description. Silent about everything in his life; past, present and future. Everyone in the family knew very little about him and I always felt that I never really knew him as a man, a grandfather, not even as a person. That he had been ever present in my life until he died, when I was in my early twenties, made the lack of knowing him hurt even...

7 comments 7

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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.

Stories