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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#177: Found in Translation

“Every act of communication is a miracle of translation.”

– Ken Liu, The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories

Communication is the cornerstone of all relationships. A complex combination of sounds, words, gestures, and written symbols help us navigate the world and get our intentions and feelings across. It’s remarkably efficient, but sometimes, regardless of how clearly you thinkyou’re expressing yourself, things get lost between sender and receiver.

Inspired by the act of translating thoughts and feelings into words and actions — and the things that can get lost (or found) in the process — here are this week’s prompts:

This week's prompts

Write a story about two or more characters who don't speak each other's language (literally or metaphorically), but still find a way to communicate.

Dialogue – 54 stories

Set your story in a meeting where a professional interpreter takes some liberties, with major consequences.

Funny – 12 stories

Write about someone who is slowly forgetting their mother tongue or losing their language.

Character – 22 stories

Lost in a foreign city where they don’t speak the language, your character uses a translation app to get around, but constantly runs into problems.

Adventure – 9 stories

Write a story about a character who struggles to translate their thoughts and feelings into words and action.

Angst – 53 stories

Stories

“A Thousand Lies a Day” by Paul Michael Winters

Submitted to Contest #177

(Semi-Autobiographical Fiction)The bell rings, and within moments, students pour out of classroom doors. The hallway fills with the echoing sounds of laughter, shouting and squeaking sneakers. Throngs of students move in every direction, all racing against the nine-minute period break.I walk through this chaos, down the middle of the hallway. I’ve got my headphones on, listening to the latest album by INXS on my Walkman. Trying to tune out the world. I keep my eyes downward and make myself as invisible as possible. By being unremarkable, wit...

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“THE MIND IS A LONELY HUNTER” by Susan Catucci

Submitted to Contest #177

*** WARNING: Mild profanity. ***My body totally betrayed me when I was under anesthesia to have my tonsils removed. What I mean by that is, just because my heart stopped beating for like, what, twenty minutes or something, for that small span of time my brain just lacked a little bit of oxygen, nothing really to write home about. What’s the big deal? Then, all of a sudden, I’m like evicted, tossed out, given the bum’s rush. Jeesh. That’s gratitude for you. After all I’d done to keep fit and ready. Healthy e...

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“Translational Error” by Ian Gonzales

Submitted to Contest #177

“We will accept nothing less than your unconditional surrender. Resist, and you will be annihilated.” The series of clicks and snaps, coming from the segmented mouthparts of the looming arthropod at the end of the table, confirms my nagging suspicion that I really don’t want to be here. The massive nonhuman, a creature that resembles nothing more than a chain of glossy, dark gray beads sporting segmented legs, is coiled around what passes for a chair to its species, and looks to me like a cat tower made out of obsidian. The being… reclining ...

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“Juno’s What?” by Cindy Strube

Submitted to Contest #177

CW: Gore and mentions of death in historical contextJuno’s What?Everyone at my school dreaded sixth grade, because it meant you got Old Mrs. Crump. “She’s been there so long, she was my dad’s teacher!” I told my friends.We all dragged our feet on the first day. The bell was already starting to ring when Sam Travers got close enough to see the new name on the door. He stopped so suddenly that we all practically plowed into him.“I’m not even gonna try to say that!”Mrs. Kjærgaard. (I copied that off the school website. That squished-togeth...

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“The Dead City of Enlightenment” by David Phan

Submitted to Contest #177

The fluorescent dimmed light flickered unbearably in this part of the drop ship. It was so cold in this ship, teardrops and spit could freeze on the spot, just like in the dead of space, there was no warmth nor reprieve from it. But what the men and women can complain about? As the ‘contractors’ had shuddered to themselves in their designated seat, with metallic bars that hindered around their flesh bodies. They sat like nice and silent schoolchildren, roughly 10 or 12 metres away from each other.A expedition of fresh researchers and ex...

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“Lost for Words” by Karin Cavanagh

Submitted to Contest #177

A hammer smashed against my skull, or at least that’s how my head felt. I slowly opened my eyes to see a white ceiling above me and several beds along the far wall. Turning my head, there were more beds on each side of me. But that action was a mistake, the assault of a thousand exploding bombs pounded my skull. I raised my hands to block out the light, waiting for the pain to subside. “Squiry?” came a voice next to me. “Pardon?” I responded. “Nu squiry?” they replied. Still not understanding, I peeked through my fingers at the voic...

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“A DESIRE TO DIE” by BRUCE MARTIN

Submitted to Contest #177

I remember the first time I wanted to die. I was nine years old and we were visiting my grandparents. After dinner, my grandfather said he didn’t feel well and had to lie down in bed. They called for an ambulance. I sat on the window sill of his room and watched him while he lay there moaning. And I thought, “I guess this is what it looks like as death approaches.” And it seemed very pleasant and exciting. Later on, when I started medical school, I found that I was fascinated by the cadavers in the anatomy lab. They all seemed so peace...

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“The Presidents Interpreter ” by Kelly Sibley

Submitted to Contest #177

Warning: this is political satire! “Oh, Sir, I just wanted to thank you for this opportunity; I won’t let you down!” Karla pulled at the collar of her brand-new dark blue business suit. She’d been in a hurry this morning to buy it, and by the scratching sensation on the back of her neck, she’d missed a tag. The Secretary to the President wearily placed his reading glasses down and looked up from his colossal walnut desk, sighing, “Yay for you. Do you have your security pass to enter the oval office?” “Yes, Sir. Yes, I do.” The ...

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“Helen, me, and our false friends” by Rolade Berthier

Submitted to Contest #177

That can't be her. She takes the train to work. Helen sprints as soon as she sees me and kisses me on the right cheek and then on the left. "Grève, there's no train". She means "strike". Last night, a union representative wearing an orange vest and a hard hat answered a local television journalist's questions about their decision not to work today and at the weekend. Picketing is the French railroad workers' favourite sport; they are the world's champions.Unlike during the pre-COVID pandemic, there's no queue; only eight of us are lining up ...

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“Nana's Vacation” by Jacob Brown

Submitted to Contest #177

I heard Nana speak, but I didn’t understand what she said. It was hard to understand her because I couldn’t see her face. Her bed was up on a frame too high for me to see over. The grownups all stood above the bed and looked down at her. I figured out where her face was because all the grownups were looking there. I heard Nana asking to see me but none of the grownups wanted to pick me up.Nana put her arm out over the bed, but the frame was too high and my arms were too short to reach her. I even tried standing on my tippy toes. Nana was wea...

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“Big Sister Luck” by S N

Submitted to Contest #177

Round the bowl I plod. The task at hand, dishes. Mood: Big sisters lead lives that suck. Big sisters are assigned tasks that big brothers evade without awareness. Luck finds boys like mold finds bathrooms. Insidiously. Darkness infringes on the daylight used to complete my chore. A scream strikes the air at a pitch that rivals the goddess Mariah Carey herself. The bowl slips into a loud collision with the stainless-steel sink. “What the heck?” I mumble. The soft shudder of our double screen door sounds and a bitter chill foreign to the tr...

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“The Factor I Once Understood” by S N

Submitted to Contest #177

Each word spoken ignites in my ear, warm and wet. “Oh - kay, Abuela. I get it, but do you need to yell? I hear you.” I glance at the rearview mirror and mouth ‘help me.’ No use. Conversations in the back of strangers' cars have become playground power trips for Hispanic seniors. No sane rideshare driver would disagree with a chancleta armed granny. “Mija, I have a point. Right, Josepi?” “Abuela, it’s Joseph and you leave him out of this. No tiene nada que ver.” “Oh, now tú hablas español. Miss, ‘I don’t want to speak spanish.’” She...

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“The Wind is Whistling Today” by Wake Lloire

Submitted to Contest #177

My phone vibrates. A picture of an owl sitting on a ladder fills my phone screen.I sit, staring at my phone. The text above it reads.-it’s minus 40 here, plus the wind chillThe image and the words completely disconnected.-cute owlI text back. I watch the three little dots bouncing, indicating that there is another text coming in.-yupI send her another video of the wind whistling in the trees.These texts are emblematic of the way I’ve learned to communicate with my mother. When I was younger, I’d talk with her and tell her stories about my da...

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“Chirps and squeaks” by Lex Castanheira

Submitted to Contest #177

His hands clutched on his knees and his breath a bit shorter than usual, Noah was having a harder time recovering from this eight-mile run than he usually would. His half marathon was about two months away and clearly, this wasn’t the best way to prepare for it. He still had plenty of time to get back in shape, but he needed to cut down on his business travels and happy hours, if he wanted to finish the race. The orange and red colored lines on his running app were only adding to his frustration, confirming and reminding him of his painful ...

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“Camarones With The Crocodile: Tinkering Part 2” by Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #177

Disclaimer: Strong language, violence, and the aftermath of sexual abuse. 2015 San Ignacio, Sinaloa, Mexico The Crocodile was rapidly becoming the stuff of legend. A regionally popular band was making the charts with a driving narcocorrido about "Los Dientes Del Cocodrilo," and his bloody exploits on behalf of the Cartel de Sinaloa. The rising star of Mexico's Golden Triangle thus had bristled about meeting in this filthy side-street marisqueria in the tiny backwater of San Ignacio. He preferred the gran entrada -- the splashy entrance, t...

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$250

Prize money

150

Contest entries

70

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Dec 23, 2022 EST

Won by Laurel Hanson 🏆

Title: Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen Without a Hearing Aid

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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