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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#185: Hoarding Away

Much like dragons, people love a good hoard. Whether it’s money, objects, or even people, collecting can be a hobby — or an obsession. Our collections might be a maximalist hodge-podge shoved into every nook and cranny, a meticulously organized catalog with every item neatly labeled, or they may not even be tangible at all. Junk or riches, thoughts or feelings, even if we don’t know it, we might be unconsciously clinging on to something.

This week’s prompts evoke treasure troves, keepsakes, and whatever it is that compels us to hold on tightly.

This week's prompts

Write a story about someone who doesn’t know how to let go.

Dramatic – 121 stories

Someone’s beloved collection is destroyed. How do they react?

Adults – 25 stories

Start a story with someone saying, “It’s mine, and you can’t have it!”

Dialogue – 25 stories

Write about a dragon who doesn’t know what to do with their hoard anymore.

Fantasy – 63 stories

Set all or part of your story in a jam-packed storage unit.

Mystery – 46 stories

Stories

“Saint Anthony Frankenstein” by Henri Porritt

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #185

3:00 am, three sharp bursts of noise break into the thick comfort of sleep. They tell me you’re gone.She disappeared.It’s a tragedy. Nothing to be done. I sit, body numb, as the echoes of some old wives tale about the ‘witching hour’ rattle in the quiet fear of my skull. Painful anticipation and shock crawling up my spine. In some sick spite - I wonder whether to pray, the sour taste of initial grief coating my tongue and twisting my mouth into some begging incantation.No, I decide. I am not a believer.Not in God, and his mysterious (random)...

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“Rabbit Feet Only” by Emily Fox

Submitted to Contest #185

Iazeom, The Great Rabbit Killer, was strolling back through the forest from his latest conquest. With a rabbit foot still in his claw and the taste of a delicious cotton-tail on his tongue, the green dragon flew up the mountain and crawled back into his cave. "Ah, another one for the collection." As he was far more organized than some of the more barbaric dragons of the land, he looked for the best place on his rock of trophies to put this new rabbit foot. The gold and jewels he'd collected over time were neatly piled up beside the rock, bu...

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“The Faceless” by Shane Murray

Submitted to Contest #185

The stained and rusted steel doors groaned in the wind like the maw of a sleeping dragon. Adam took it in while he waited by the team’s truck. The old igloo ammo bunker built during World War Two was now a personal storage warehouse, sold off like the others in the area when the government no longer needed the infrastructure. Located in the middle of nowhere, Hamilton Township, Illinois, the place felt like a forgotten ruin. A simple chain link fence with a small access hut next to the gate separated the gravel lot outside the large ste...

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“I See Me in Your Sunglasses” by Carina Caccia

Submitted to Contest #185

The sun lies, the sun lies as the breeze creeps up my legs, my thighs. It’s winter here, a sunny winter, and I’m both warm and cold inside. “It’s mine, and you can’t have it,” I say. He leans in, his elbow on the oily table, on the breadcrumbs. “I feel so at home in my own skin,” I say. Pause. He doesn’t try to fill the silence but watches me grapple with words in my head: a girl grasping at dandelion clocks. “Es tan mía,” I say. He smiles at this last part. I smile a closed smile in return; I smile because he does. It’s not ...

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“Orange and Yellow, by Rothko” by Marty B

Submitted to Contest #185

Harry thought it would have been a lot easier to steal from his Stepdad, since he was dead. But they had to get into the unit at StoragePro first. “No.” The guard said. “We‘re his stepsons,” Harry pleaded. “Look, we have the key and everything.” He held up a key with the StoragePro logo. The guard buzzed them into the entrance. “What unit?” He looked them up and down, sensing something was off. “Number 222.” Harry said. “It is awfully late to be going into your unit-.” The guard looked at the mismatched pair...

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“The Dragon of Wall Street” by Adam Young

Submitted to Contest #185

A pale sun rose over the New York City skyline on that cold, blustery day in February. The clouds of smoke-steam billowed from beneath the city through the sidewalk grates warming a dozen houseless men from the depths of The Dragon’s lair. The Dragon himself was snaking his way through his maze of tunnels toward the morning’s destination. He preferred the underground. It connected him to the pulse of the city, whose heart he held in his grip. The exotic Ethiopian espresso drawn from his La Marzocco Strada frothed into a luxurious latte by hi...

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“Everything In Its Place” by V Joyce Lott

Submitted to Contest #185

There was a place for everything, but it was all out of place. Forty-six years, two wives, three kids, and four grands all stuffed into that dusty two-bedroom shack, filled with memories. Robert Goast was a miser. A miserable old man who slept in an armchair because his bed was filled with—memories. His two wives were dead. His children had been excommunicated for their lifestyles. He had no one but his things. His hoard made him proud. The city officials posted a notice, calling his residence unlivable. They threatened to evict him. He woul...

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“The Collector” by Valerie Church

Submitted to Contest #185

THE COLLECTOR Arthur was, as usual, the last to leave his office. He tidied his desk, emptied the waste basket, put the file he was working on back into the filing cabinet and brushed away a recalcitrant morsel of fluff. He liked to keep his desk clean and orderly, shuddering at the thought of the sticky remains of surreptitious snacks he had noticed on his neighbour’s working surface. Not that his own work station really deserved to be called a desk, more of a corner, actually, the end of a shelf housing office equipment, first aid box etc....

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“Fool's Gold. ” by Ellie Rendel

Submitted to Contest #185

Ophelia spent countless hours laying, belly up, wings outstretched, jaw gaping open, long legs and claws strewn over her hoard.She had hundreds of years amassing it. She had pillaged and plundered many kingdoms and villages, butchering anyone who got in her way, taking every shiny, valuable thing they had; she had acclimated over fifty crowns, over one hundred chalices, at least over three hundred necklaces and enough coins for her to make herself comfortable at night.That didn’t include the sheer amount of gold and silver armour she h...

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“Droplets of Rain” by Sejal Narkhede

Submitted to Contest #185

Walking alone in a lonely alleyway isn’t the safest way for a casual nineteen-year-old to spend her weekend. She should be at a party, hanging out with her friends, or watching a movie with a loved one. But this is the only shortcut to where I buried my heart. My sweetest and bitterest bittersweet childhood memories. My whole life was buried in the lone treehouse in the Merehill woods. The place where I made those bittersweet memories that I miss making so, so bad. No one spotted it, nor claimed it. So lonely it was. The path on wh...

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“Last of the Free Djinn” by Andree Koehler

Submitted to Contest #185

The messenger unwrapped the mirror scroll and held it so Geordanna and Jilissi could look into it. They watched as Esto’s jar fell to alabaster dust. Geordanna’s tears sounded like breaking crystal as they landed on the table. ‘You do know what this means,’ she said. It was a statement, implying she already knew what Jilissi’s answer would be. ‘Your eminences,’ the messenger said to the two. ‘Your presence is required in Gladstead. Jilissi held her sister’s hand. ‘We don’t know that the ancient prophesy is true.’ She loved Jilissi’s enth...

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“The Quiet Struggle of Squirreling” by KT George

Submitted to Contest #185

My mother doesn’t know how to let anything go. And I mean anything: objects, people, animals, even thoughts and feelings. When I first noticed this condition, I was six years old. I had a new friend over after school, and as soon as he entered our house, I knew something was off. “It smells like my great-aunt Sarah’s house. Old,” he said, stretching out the ‘L’ sound while wrinkling his nose. “I smelled it on your clothes, but only a little, so it didn’t bother me. But this is icky,” he continued, walking through the house, ...

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“This is Mine” by Rick Pascal

Submitted to Contest #185

THIS IS MINEby Rick PascalLondon - 1926Edith Chatsworth awoke with a start, her heart pounding as if attempting to escape from her delicate rib cage. Her thin silk nightgown was no match for the cold sweat that enveloped her fragile frame as she sat upright in bed, shivering. The words, “This is mine, and you can’t have it,” reverberated in her mind again and again. She clutched her ears endeavoring to block the ominous repetition. Only sitting still for a few more moments enabled her to silence the threat posed by the unknown sinister voice...

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“The Dragon and His Village” by Dhruv Srivastava

Submitted to Contest #185

Somewhere within a distant mountain sat a dragon atop a pile of gold. This was not a scary dragon, with rows of razor sharp teeth and talons the size of full grown men. This dragon had claws which it could at best use to scratch the scales behind its pointy ears, and while it did have sharp teeth, it had developed a liking for vegetarian options, particularly bounties of fruits and steamed root vegetables. It liked to add in the occasional pot roast or succulent grilled chicken, but on the whole it preferred the colorful, leafy kind of food....

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“Henkin’s Mellified Honey” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #185

According to Wikipedia, for at least 2,700 years honey has been used by humans to treat a variety of ailments through topical application. The contents of the mellification process however would turn the honey into ‘sort of a confection reputedly capable of healing broken limbs and other ailments. This confection would then be sold in street markets as a hard to find item with a hefty price’. “Do you think he’s ready?” The only care remaining in Ann Henkins was for her son, John Jr., who everyone called Little John. She wanted to p...

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$250

Prize money

280

Contest entries

138

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Feb 17, 2023 EST

Won by Lynda Williams 🏆

Title: Jesus and Jockeys

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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