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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#190: Eras

To quote Brooklyn 99, Taylor Swift “makes all of us feel things.” With her honest and reflective accounts of growing up and searching for yourself and your place in the world, she’s managed to trace her remarkable coming-of-age arc in a way that millions of people can still relate to.

This week, let’s remember what growing up feels like, or take inspiration from Taylor Swift’s master storytelling to come up with a new story. But remember — using lyrics isn’t allowed!

This week's prompts

Start a story that begins with a character saying “Speak now.”

Dialogue – 86 stories

Write about someone who decides to make their own version of something old.

Character – 36 stories

Set your story in New York, where someone’s been waiting for your character.

Adventure – 39 stories

Write a story about a fandom

Funny – 27 stories

Start your story with someone vowing to take revenge.

Dark – 62 stories

Stories

“The Union” by Rachael Hansen

Submitted to Contest #190

“…speak now or forever hold your peace,” the minister’s words died in the empty spaces of the church. Someone coughed. Someone cleared their throat.Graham and Madeline stared across the space of their entwined hands and into the eyes of the other—almost-the-husband, almost-the-wife—with bated breath. You could hear a pin drop. They both knew there was a good chance that someone would, in fact, speak now and not hold their peace. They’d actually discussed what they would do when someone objected to their union at the minister’s behest, in fro...

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“The Jouralist's last stand” by Andres Perez

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now”, he spat with his hoarse and raspy tone. It wasn’t necessarily an inviting statement to get me to talk, yet I remained steady in my efforts to not collapse from fear. In front of me was a man of an inconsiderable size probably around 4’3, who had dark brown hair, accompanied with severe burn marks on his left cheek. As I gazed at them, I could tell the man was not fond of spectators, concerning that particular area which was at least then adequate. Lowering my gaze, from his face to the 32 inch bat, I was certain he...

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“See the light” by Julie Rich

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now.” The man in the white coat pushed his glasses up and looked at Jenny with intense focus. “What would you like me to say?” she asked. Well, those were the words her brain formed, but her vocal chords delivered a harsh, wet grunting noise. Wide-eyed, she clapped both hands over her mouth. Her chest heaved as she sucked air in through flared nostrils. “Feel free to try again.” Appalled at the thought of repeating that ugly sound, she shook her head. “Okay. I understand,” he replied with a small nod. He left her glass corner offi...

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“Speak” by Laura Orrantia

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now,” she hears a voice whisper. She uncrosses her legs and tugs at her hemline. She questions why she chose to wear this sundress. It is suddenly making her feel more exposed. The woman sitting across from her repeats a question, “Lucy, what made you decide to come see me today?” The woman speaks softly while somehow still exuding confidence. Her sleek, jet-black hair is pulled neatly into a bun, not giving away the length. She is stunning and looks elegant in a silk top that perfectly matches the summers clear blue sky. It is loosel...

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“The Good Church Boy” by Reece York

Submitted to Contest #190

"Speak now." Father said. His arms crossed firmly against his chest, so tight that you could see muscle strain against his red polo shirt. His gaze pierced and forced Gregor's eyes down by the judgement it contained.Gregor wish he could explain, truly he did. He was used to being in good graces with the grownups in his life, but now his lips were sealed, and his hands trembled. He grimaced at the hot burn in his eyes and nose. The indignation of doing the right thing was fresh with him.His father sighed in resignation. "Alright. Go to your r...

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“Family Curse” by Sally Bennett Boyington

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now,” said the maker of the mannequin, using the formula the traveling mage had sold her along with the plans. She moved her hands through the complicated motions of the final conjuration. For a moment the wooden mannequin on the kitchen table seemed to prepare itself to utter a sound, moving its head awkwardly on a short neck. It shifted jointed arms and legs like a person stirring in a deep sleep. Then it subsided, just as its maker knew it would. Just as it had the other fifty-two times Dorrekus commanded it to speak. She had cou...

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“The Yarn Merchant” by Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now,” the sultan’s voice thunders like a thousand waterfalls, “and tell me who you are and what you were doing in my private gardens.” “This story begins many moons ago,” I begin in a sing-song voice, “in a city very much like this one. I was younger then and very handsome.” (The sultan and his courtiers gaze at my wrinkled face in disbelief.) “All the girls were in love with me, but I had eyes for only one of them: Fairuza, daughter of Hakim the spice-merchant.” I half-close my eyes as if thinking of her. “She was beautiful,” ...

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“Curfew and Stuff” by Kimberly Walker

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now or forever hold your piece.” This was my mother’s favorite saying when she knew she was winning an argument. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I asked how she was spelling piece or peace. Being an educator, she broke into explaining, although sounding alike. Stop, mom, stop… I meant when you use your favorite phrase, “Speak now or forever hold your piece.” Which way are you spelling it? Well, it depended on the situation… P-I-E-C-E a portion, a single slice of a whole—generic conversation mode without actual purposes. Mostly to ...

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“The Creators Are Chumps ” by Hugh Fritz

Submitted to Contest #190

“Speak now.” Meghna’s words were clipped, her voice hoarse. She transferred the screwdriver to her left hand and flexed the fingers of her right. A faint buzzing reverberated from inside the synthetic skin. “Drew looks,” the face said. A pause, then “at me.” The machine’s words were monotone, its face bland. Meghna’s carpal tunnel strained as she pulled the fingers of her right hand toward her wrist. “Well, she’s not wrong,” Drew offered. “I was looking at her.” “Don’t assign it pronouns yet. The sooner droids consider themselves peo...

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“How To Defeat The Oven Gremlins” by Philippa Hibberd

Submitted to Contest #190

(CW: Anxiety, mentions of abuse, alcoholism and biphobia) The smoke alarm was blaring through the apartment. Again. In between coughs, Lauren let out a string of expletives that would make Gordon Ramsay blush as she frantically turned all the stove’s dials to zero. How ironic for a professional chef like her, she thought as she removed the pan of burnt leeks and somehow still undercooked carrots from the heat, that there was that one meal she could never get right. The family heirloom recipe, no less. She flung open the window and waft...

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“The Drawing Desk” by Gregory Wright

Submitted to Contest #190

This was going to be hard. He had dreaded this ever since his mom had died a month ago, but the house was going up for sale and everything had to be cleared out. He faced the storage closet in the basement, juggling the key in his hand. The door seemed to threaten him with its battleship gray paint and its menacing presence. There were deep claw-like scratches for numerous moves, and hinges rusted to a deep brown and it presented an aura of foreboding, something he felt even as an adult. ...

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“Hi, Lavender” by Pranavi Josyula

Submitted to Contest #190

The attic—the place that was once blooming with genius—is now a pool of broken parts.It all started two months back, when she first spoke. “Hi, Lavender. My name is Selena Hendrick, but you can call me Mrs. Hendrick. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be here to remind you that you can do anything.”“It’s even more of a pleasure to meet you.” It’s even more of a pleasure to meet you after all these years, I meant, but I would’ve confused the programmed woman. She was almost a doppelganger of her predecessor, with the exception of her upright p...

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“Sometimes I wonder” by Lunny Muffin

Submitted to Contest #190

Sometimes I wonder what could have happened if I never grew up. What could have happened if I never went to college or became an engineer. Maybe I would have never had children . I would never have broken my ankle falling of a bicycle. This is a question I often think about and dream about. Especially when the days become grey and the nights feel cold. A river runs as well as it can go, it runs free and wild. It will continue to run until it meets an obstacle. A stone, a mountain, a log on the road. Of which it hits continuously and withou...

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“A New Awaiting” by Kalecia Apple

Submitted to Contest #190

The wind rushes through my red hair. “You’re all set here, miss.” he says with an outreaching hand. It felt nice and warm compared to my shaky hand. Maybe that was because my anxiety is through the roof. Anyhow, I hop out of the car with my purse in tow. “Will you be back in time?” I ask the limo driver as the car door was slammed shut. He nods “Of course. At 10 pm as promised.” With that, the driver tips his hat before the limo speeds way into the night. I pulled out my phone from my pocket. The screen flashes with the time on the lock sc...

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“City Storm” by Oceana Doolittle

Submitted to Contest #190

The constant clump of feet against stone, the buzz of hundreds of voices, the din of cars beeping, the wailing of sirens, and the rush of cars passing filled the air. Countless smells were swept all over, carried by occasional gusts of cool wind. Thousands of colorful lights flickered on, shining in the growing twilight. Paper scraps, deformed plastic bags, and dry leaves skittered down the pavement. Abri bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, her eyes fixed on the red hand stopping her from crossing the road. She glanced at he...

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$250

Prize money

250

Contest entries

114

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Mar 24, 2023 EST

Won by Éan Bird 🏆

Title: Dear Coldplay, I Love You. Wait. Scratch That.

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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