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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

“In a Room” by Max Thomas

Submitted to Contest #185

He sat wrapped in a black sheet. The chair was his mother's, it cracked and splintered and creaked with the slightest movement. A sickly yellow firelight came from the lantern beside him, dangerously atop a pile of books with indiscernible spines. He had finished a painting on his wall underneath the stripping wall paper. Only half of it could be seen now that the wall paper had floated back to a comfortable position, and a wavering shadow was fast by the flame over top the remaining image of the painting. He squinted, feeling his face tug l...

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“The Widow Betrayed” by Tom Durwood

Submitted to Contest #185

The Widow Betrayed I didn’t ask for any of this to happen in this order. -- Stephen Falk “I think,” said Judy, amid the clopping of horse hooves and crunch of the wagon wheels on the road, “that my Dad loved my Mom more than she loved him.” We were making good time on the new section of McKinley Highway, approaching the Portuguese Quarter, Judy was driving us home in the buckboard wagon after the Mira Flores dam incident. Sam was riding shotgun and I was half-dozing in the wagon’s bed. It had been a long day. “You knew them...

7 comments 7
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“The Golden Cord” by Erica Dorsey

Submitted to Contest #185

“You have got to be fucking kidding me…..” Darius Porter said to himself as he stood behind the counter at Saver Gas and tried not to throw up recently eaten lunch. He could tell that today was gonna be a bad fucking day. He wished he had normal bad days but instead he saw fucking Dead People. “Good Evening.” Darius said through gritted teeth as he pretended he didn’t see the dead girl following the white dude into the store. Darius knew exactly who she was—- he’d gone to high school with her. She was an older girl by the name of Tenesha Edw...

3 comments 3
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“He Will Be the Right E/Guy For Me” by S N

Submitted to Contest #185

There is nothing you can say to me that will convince me otherwise. I am undoubtedly in love with Eddie Suzuki-Brown. No, this man is not interested in me. Yes, I understand that fully. But still, I can’t help but think about him every day. Even now, four years after a whole lot of nothing. No contact. No social media peripheral interaction. Nada. He is, I am sure, still as beautiful as ever. I can remember the first time that I noticed him. Short little man with curly hair. That’s all he was at first. A little dude, far to vertically challe...

2 comments 2
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“Private Reverie ” by D. Riyo

Submitted to Contest #185

I don’t realize I’m in a state of happiness until it passes. One morning, after we arrived at Sidi Bou Said, the blue and white city that made us want to explore all of Tunisia. I’m traveling with my cousins, it’s been a month, so I know no one will be up at this hour. I step out to the terrace of our Airbnb where I have a clear view of the mountain. It has felt like a heavy presence over my shoulder since the moment I stepped off the plane. Despite the Mediterranean sea between me and the mountain, the hill this town sits on brings me to ey...

1 comment 1
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“Fantastic Voyages of the World” by Dylan Patrick

Submitted to Contest #185

Time is a seamstress. She stitches importance into the otherwise mundane. Coffee shops on our favorite street, the bridge where we had our first kiss, and in my case, a book that my grandpa read me on his knee. It was always the calm quiet during a loud thunderstorm or a nice way of passing a summer afternoon. As the years turned into double digits, however, those stories took on a new shape, a new importance. Shame on me, I let the book fall into disrepair and neglect. The cover was coated with dust, but in my mind’s eye, the stories shone...

3 comments 3
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“Nine Years With Liam” by Madeline Honig

Submitted to Contest #185

Emma sat on the hardwood of her living room floor, but she could not feel the numbness in her bottom.  She took another sip of red wine and wiped away a single tear from her face.  She put down the photo in her hand and swapped it for another photo from the Amazon box.   In this photo, Liam, Emma’s ex-boyfriend, had both arms around Emma.  Looking at the photo, it brought Emma back to that day.  It was Liam’s cousin, Noah’s wedding.  She didn’t know if it was wedding vibes, but Liam could not keep his han...

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“Thick Thicks Save Lives” by Esti Klein

Submitted to Contest #185

Trigger warnings: Abandonment, Allusions to suicide/self-harm, drug abuse, Drug-induced panic attack and paranoia, Violence When I lived in Thorncreek I was able to convince myself daily that this town didn’t harbor a witch. I’d walk everyday down to the pier, which led out into a mammoth manmade lake, squat on the planks, and finger the tapering wood. From the woods around the edges of the lake I’d hear a chanting, abrasive and grating, like a taunt.  Thorncreek was a small town. Since my birth I haven’t left Kentucky, but I haven’t ...

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“A Clutter of Cadillacs” by Richard E. Gower

Submitted to Contest #185

Arnold Webster’s love affair was impossible to have kept clandestine. Some people might lust after, or even surreptitiously maintain, a single sleek and sporty model under cover in a hideaway somewhere – most reasonable individuals being content to toy with just one, or, at least, one at a time – but Arnold’s obsession ran to variety. And the parade of illicit love-objects that sullied his otherwise sterling character were alluring and seductive. His inamoratas were also flamboyant and beguiling temptresses that had once epitomized the Ameri...

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“Two Days With You” by Joy Basile

Submitted to Contest #185

It’s been 27 days since I found out I have to move out of my house. I have to move away from everything I’ve ever known. My father has lost his job again, this is the 8th time. I usually don’t get too bothered by it, moving from school to school in Illinois, but this time is different. This time I have to move to a new state. Florida to be exact.  We leave in 2 days for his new job as a hotel manager. I don’t understand what that job entails, but what I do know is I'm not ready. Even when I had to move around Illinois I was able to kee...

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“Room 230” by Brooklyn Goossen

Submitted to Contest #185

Tears flowed like a river out of her red, puffy eyes. The droplets of salt rolled down her flushed cheeks and dripped silently onto the carpeted floor. Sobs filled the room and the words, “please come back to me,” escaped thin quivering lips and echoed off bare, unforgiving walls. Strong arms wrapped tightly around the frail frame of a woman standing in an open doorway, preventing her from chasing after her beloved. “Come back!” she pleaded again, “please.” She stopped for a brief moment to catch her breath, and despite choking on tears, she...

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“wash your mouth out with soap” by Victoria Telford

Submitted to Contest #185

tw: sexual violence, gore, murder. "knock knock."  Corinne heard the tap on the door and sighed, the steam from a freshly boiled pot of spaghetti was just starting to open up her sinuses. She ignored the light knock and continued straining her noodles. The knocking continued- this time a bit louder. She rolled her eyes, slammed the pot on the counter, and stormed into the living room, where she peeked through the peephole and saw a man in uniform. She could tell he was some sort of serviceman, so she opened the door ever so slightly a...

3 comments 3
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“Hungover” by Lovga Keiser

Submitted to Contest #185

He was hungover. That was the human word, hungover. He had never taken a sip of alcohol in his life. Not beer or wine or liquor or whatever other concoction of inebriating drink a human could brew. But he was still hungover because that’s the only feeling it could have been, hungover. A thief had told him once, what “hungover” was. It feels like your skull has been cracked open and a torch was shoved inside. It feels like your feet are hollow and filled with sand. It feels like your throat is about to close and bile is forming at the tip of ...

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“Dryad” by Dylan Mass

Submitted to Contest #185

“It’s mine and you can’t have it!” yelled one dryad to another. “Sharing is caring, Clovamora.” yelled the other dryad. “Well I don’t care Lilacoris. So go away. Finders keepers.” the green dryad, Clovamora turns away and starts to run into the woods. “That isn’t how it works when you steal it!” Lilacoris calls after her. With a huff of leaves and pollen, she turns back into a tree, sulking. I’m going to get that thing back from her if it’s the last thing I do. After a few human hours, she turns back into her humanoid form, and takes a drink...

1 comment 1
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“I Appear to be Missing” by Jed Cope

Submitted to Contest #185

“It’s mine, and you can’t have it!” There. I’ve said it. After thirty years I have made a stand. Enough is enough. I can’t take anymore. I just can’t take anymore. No. He can’t take anymore. Piece by piece, he has taken me. That is all he has done. That is all he is about. That is all he is. The worst of it is that I gifted him those pieces. I came willingly to this lair of his and I let him do his worst. Thirty years! Oh my sweet Lord! How could I have been so blind? No! Stop that Jane! Don’t lie to yourself. No more li...

6 comments 6
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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!

Prompts | Big Blue Hand | 2024-11

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