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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#211: Cozy Corner

You’ve probably noticed that cozy fiction has been on the rise for several years, and even more so post-pandemic. Cozy mysteries about grandparent sleuths, pets, food, bookshops, and villages have flourished, allowing people to dabble in suspense while still maintaining a sense of warmth, familiarity, and comfort. The same is beginning to happen in the fantasy genre (think of Travis Baldree’s Legends and Lattes, about an orc opening a coffee shop), so it’s clear that the appeal of wholesome, comforting fiction exceeds the mystery genre.

With that in mind, let’s get comfy — as much as summertime allows! Put on your imaginary cardigans and let’s see what this week’s homely prompts will yield.

This week's prompts

Write a story starring an octogenarian who’s more than meets the eye.

Fiction – 67 stories

Begin your story with a librarian searching for something.

Fiction – 70 stories

Write a story involving a friendship with an adorable animal.

Fluff – 50 stories

Set or begin your story in a room lit by the flickering flames of the fireplace.

Fiction – 70 stories

End your story with two characters reconciling.

Adults – 47 stories

Stories

“what remains forgotten” by Eddie McKenzie

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #211

The fire crackled a tune that seemed altogether mocking in its cheeriness, the dancing flames darting up to greedily gobble up the next letter that was tossed to it, setting the shadows to join this strange ebb and flow of flickering light. Yet another letter was tossed into the fireplace, curling first at the corners before burning away under the icy gaze of the woman watching this. She kneeled before the fire, skirts billowing around her like a discarded flower, chestnut hair flowing free about her shoulders, the closest to an emotion reac...

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“The Song at Harvest's End” by Russell Mickler

Submitted to Contest #211

The Bard. Benzie’s Concerns. Celebration. Voiceless. A cozy birchwood fire crackled in the inn’s limestone hearth. Mounted above the mantle, Truffler - a taxidermied warthog - proudly presided over the festivities sporting a ratty black tophat that (most agreed) leaned too far to the right. In the Halfling hamlet of Pondaroak, the Swindle & Swine was considered an exciting destination to spend Harvest’s End, a holiday celebrating the conclusion of the year’s farming cycle. Halfling folk were drawn from as far as Mosshollow and as c...

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“The Best Way to Not Be Loved Back” by Jonathan Page

Submitted to Contest #211

“Yet but three come one more. Two of both kinds make up four. Ere she comes curst and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad. Thus to make poor females mad.” --A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Shakespeare * * * Marissa was a girl who loved a boy who didn’t love her back. At twenty-four she had already found five different ways to not be loved back. Of course, there was one way she liked the best. That was the way she loved Brian Murphy. These were Marissa’s methods, in the order she stumbled on them, and in the order she used them on Brian. ...

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“Burning” by John K Adams

Submitted to Contest #211

Larry smelled pine smoke. He smiled at the thought of Andre, his brother, ‘Sipping brandy before the fire. What a life. Finally settled into his niche…’ Walking toward the study, warm, shifting light shone off the walls. He stepped into the doorway to see Andre sitting on the hearth, feeding papers into rising flames. Stacks of paper leaned against each other. Larry said, “What’s up? Andre looked haunted. “You’ve got to help me, man.” “You want a sandwich?” Larry worked in catering. Andre fed the fire. “No. I can’t do this anymore. I’ll go...

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“Forgive Me” by Chris Belton

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #211

Forgive Me. “I’m sorry, pet… but we need to get a move on.” Imelda attempted a smile, flinching through clenched teeth, trying not to resist Shirley’s determined effort to wield the rough towel at speed over her fragile skin. “There we are, pet. Now let’s get you dressed and into your chair before they send a search party.” Imelda loved the sound of Shirley’s home cooked voice. It reminded her of her grandmother’s kitchen; the aroma of cinnamon laced apple cake straight from the oven in a world not yet defiled. Ablutions over, Im...

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“Cafe Veritas” by Marty B

Submitted to Contest #211

Grandma Bobbie’s unassuming old, wrinkled hands squeezed Amelia’s hand once, then twice to bring her back to reality. Amelia’s attention turned back to the small woman across from her at the Café table. “Thanks for coming to see me at work, Grandma.” One of Amelia’s legs bobbed rapidly over her crossed legs. An attractive old lady, short and thin, with pink cheeks and light brown eyes, Grandma Bobbie had an easy smile and a gentle manner. “Oh I love to see you Amelia, no matter where it is! And I haven't ...

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“First Duck” by Jonathan Page

Submitted to Contest #211

Well, what ah want y'all to know is that ah was the youngest runner in that there race. The next youngest? Well, they were a whoppin eight years old, which is more than four times mah age. Ah know, ah know, ah might be a bit of a prodigy, if ya catch mah drift.They are a strange looking lot. Some have thin tapered ankles comin’ outa there sneaks like a flagpole. Others have thick plump ones, meaty and round, which is the kind Fredi had. I'll own up to it, I've got a little thing for them feet, but don't go passin' judgment.Ah ...

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“Missing Cat: Reward If Found” by Nina H

Submitted to Contest #211

My head upside down, legs in the air, I listened without interest to the drone of adults talking. I was in my pajamas, laying upside down in one of the white wicker chairs my dad repainted about every three years or so. Sometimes the paint stuck to my sweating legs when I stood up, and I’d meticulously peel the spots of white. The thermometer on my back porch that summer night read 87F. It hadn’t cooled off at all since the afternoon when I was in the pool. The faint smell of chlorine from my towel, thrown carelessly on the back of a ...

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“The Bryant Library at Roslyn Harbor” by Jonathan Page

Submitted to Contest #211

'Twas in that season of the year,When all things gay and sweet appear,That Colin, with the morning ray,Arose and sung his rural lay.Of Nannie's charms the shepherd sung:The hills and dales with Nannie rung:While Roslin Castle heard the swain,And echoed back his cheerful strain.--Roslyn’s Castle, 1776 (Scot’s Tunes)"We the undersigned, inhabitants of Hempstead Harbor, Queens County, Long Island, State of New York, finding a serious inconvenience in our village, particularly in our Post Office arrangements, from the similarity of names… do the...

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“Going through life together” by H K Brown

Submitted to Contest #211

I stand here in the columns of the library—the one I’ve ran like a well-oiled machine for the last sixty-one years. Marrying Fred at the ripe age of seventeen I thought I’d start pumping out babies and run the farm while he went off to work like all my older friends were doing. Our marriage was arranged, it was not one of love but of convenience. That was life in the nineteen-thirties. We had the one expected child our families demanded at the age of twenty-four, a daughter named Liz, and remained in our marriage so not to shame them. Love n...

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“My Friend Carmen” by Kevin Marlow

Submitted to Contest #211

Although because of my age, you can't tell, I'm a chocolate point, not a blue point or orange-ass Abyssinian like those turned-nosed bitches from the east side insist on being ruled by. Being generic isn't always bad. At least the beasts don't expect a lot if you are average. If one can fake normal you can coast through the teen years like a boss even though you are missing your gonads and only means of self-defense.I digress. This lame bipedal monkey fish signed some shit and put a box of gravel next to the toilet and tried to tell me what ...

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“The Wandering Path” by Anna W

Submitted to Contest #211

Content warning: grief, loss, death, child death It was dark and humid, and she couldn’t see very far past the dim light of the fire. A circle of tree stumps sat around the fire. Lydia entered the circle, surprised at being the first to arrive at her post, and chose a seat at random. The warmth of the fire was comforting, but added to the sheen of sweat that gathered on her forehead. Her feet ached. She had been walking for miles. It always feels like miles, she thought to herself. She flipped her long, dark braid to her other sh...

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“Pet Advice” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #211

“Who’s a beautiful boy, then? Yes, you are, yes, yes, yes. Daddy loves you. Yes, he does. Look at those beautiful eyes and pretty little nose. You want Daddy to scratch under your chin? There, you like that, don’t you.”Watching this outpouring of love between animal and human, the two men perched several meters above the watering hole on a short cliff ledge somewhere in the Northern Territory of Australia, stood dumbfounded at the scene taking place below them.“Wotcha make of that, mate?” The bearded of the two asked.“That’s a fuckin’ new on...

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“Heavenly Do-Over Duel” by Murray Burns

Submitted to Contest #211

Heavenly Do-Over Duel Circumstance, coincidence, and fate always play a role. If King George hadn’t been quite so greedy, if the first shot had not been fired at Lexington Green, and if Alexander Hamilton had not married the daughter of Philip Schuyler, there might not have been a story. But these three stepping stones did fall into place to lead to the fateful events of July 11, 1804 in Weehawken, New Jersey, and the additional extraordinary events that followed.Hamilton and Aaron Burr had been political rivals, but the competition turned t...

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“My Purple Gang Fiasco” by Bruce Friedman

Submitted to Contest #211

“Welcome to my cigar store,” I said as the stout, older man entered. “I’m glad you dropped in today. Not much business these days or customers to chat with. Cigar smoking is much less popular than in the old days. I just turned 80 and I’m looking to sell the shop but I’m not optimistic that I can find a suitable buyer. My store's been a landmark on the block for more than seventy years. But I’m rambling, just like the old man that I am. How can I help you?”“Well,” the customer responded. “I’m interested in trying one of your Cuban cigars. I ...

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$250

Prize money

304

Contest entries

107

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Aug 18, 2023 EST

Won by Kenz Ross 🏆

Title: Do Flamethrowers Belong In The Library?

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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