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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#235: Running Wild

Every day, countless people around the world participate in some form of running, from jogs to ultramarathons. And that simple act of putting one foot in front of another is a deceptively meaningful one; it’s something that transcends pure sport, and that can be used as a metaphor for various life experiences.

Running has a powerful psychological effect, as it often mirrors or influences our mental state. Just think about how often it pops up as an image in literature, to express a character's behavior or mindset (think running on empty, moving in circles, heading towards trouble, escaping problems, racing against time, and so on). This week, let's explore the theme of running and some of its interpretations in storytelling.

This week's prompts

Start your story with one or two characters going for a run.

Adventure – 37 stories

Write a story in which a character is running away from something, literally or metaphorically.

Angst – 123 stories

Make a race an important element of your story.

Narrative – 44 stories

Write about a character who suddenly cannot run anymore.

Character – 43 stories

Write a story that includes someone saying, “You can’t run forever.”

Dialogue – 65 stories

Stories

“Put Me with the Cicadas” by Robert Egan

Submitted to Contest #235

I thought, for some time, that dying while holding hands with my soulmate would be romantic. It wasn't. First off, it took an awful lot of convincing, and when we finally did jump off that bridge together, I was preoccupied with ensuring our heads hit the pavement simultaneously. As for what came afterward, well, that's now, and it's just awkward. The other soul rubbing up against me is bland, well-rounded, probably whale-bound after a few more human orbits. It shudders because I'm all spikes, the type of soul who always ends up in a...

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“Saturday in Seattle” by Sean Packard

Submitted to Contest #235

Early September in the Northwest. Spider veins of frost splinter in the upper corner of shaded windows. The fog outside is dense; it tumbles about in deepening shades of dreary gray. Charlie’s eyes are milky. The drone of the alarm clock breaks the silence for a moment before his hand proclaims there will be no cadence today. 5:47 am. At 5:48 he’s dressed and striding out the bedroom door. He scarfs a banana like a wolf and heads for the front door. Chilly outside - good...

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“The Runner” by Story Time

Submitted to Contest #235

I am sitting in my favorite chair. The fire is dying down, but it will not die down entirely. It has been created to stay aflame, and as it begins to extinguish, it will loop back. There are two dishes in the sink, and those two dishes will never be washed. The garbage should be taken out, but it won’t be. These imperfections are important. They help you forget that you have no reason to feel safe. Outside, a vampire hunter is patrolling my yard. I created her because, in my youth, I was a fan of a television show about a vampire hunter....

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“She's leaving home” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #235

Wednesday morning5:00 o'clockShe is sitting on the edge of her bed. It has taken days to pack. A little bit at a time, carefully hiding it from her parents. Trying to decide what is important, what is fluff. How much is enough?Sitting still, being quiet, because she can't wake Mommy and Daddy, and still keeping herself awake is hard. She can hear Daddy snore through the thin wall. But Mommy says she's a light sleeper. Marjory doubts it. As often as she has come in late these past few months, Mommy never seems to have heard her.She frets. Doe...

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“And the Gold Medal goes to the Queen of diplomacy.” by Rebecca Detti

Submitted to Contest #235

Clara wasn’t sure how it happened but each morning, without fail, she would wake a few seconds before her seven-year-old came bolting into her room. ‘The Usain Bolt of seven-year-olds’, as she and her hubby Toby referred to Elliott. It was almost as if she had an inner alarm clock calling out ‘brace brace’ before impact. As this happened, she always remembered the supportive and reassuring words of her colleague, Kelly, before she helped her into a taxi ahead of her maternity leave. 'You'll never sleep properly again love, you're fucked...

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“Dogs, rabbits and bears” by Vid Weeks

Submitted to Contest #235

I’m pushing up Huddleston Road. It’s a hard climb. I’m into my second mile. I push till the toxins build up and it burns. Burns bad, hurts; My body is pouring acid on my muscles. It’s telling me to stop. I ignore it. It scares me that I like the pain now. I look forward to it. I know the others burn too, but I’m tougher. I like the hills. The hills pays the bills, they say and I always push going down, no free rides. Let’s face it, it’s the only thing I’m good at. I am good at running long and hard. I’ve been on the cross country team sinc...

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“At Hampton Court Palace” by Michelle Oliver

Submitted to Contest #235

The brush strokes are indeed amazing capturing my attention and halting my progress down the hallway. The portrait is huge, truly an impressive feat of artistry. A regal gaze stares out of the canvas and I am captured by the familiar face and stance, who would not recognise Henry VIII? His fleshy features surround those piercing eyes. He’s not a nice man. Powerful, proud, arrogant, yes, but not nice, yet the portrait fascinates me.With deep reluctance I move on from the painting to admire the next one. Our tour guide has drawn his ...

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“Run, Maggy. Run!” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #235

Tonight, Maggy finally gets her chance to run. Tonight, he passed out drunk again. But this time he forgot to lock up first. Tonight, she waits quietly, huddled out of sight. She waits till she hears his sloppy snores.She takes one of his shirts, the one she has been ironing. Knowing exactly which floorboard creaks, exactly where and how far she can push the screen door to keep it from squeaking, she slips out of the house. She tiptoes over the gravel and patchy front yard to the street.And runs."Let's run, Maggy!" With a shove, six-year-old...

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“The White Tower” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #235

TW: some sensitive themes.The envelope joined the pile gathering dust on Mike’s oak table. He knew he’d have to read it at some point, just not now. Although it had been months since his last run, he wasn’t going to allow anything to put him off. The letter was a confirmation of demands that would seal his fate almost as surely as if he’d thrown himself off the rocks and plunged headlong into a sea that would be close to freezing. Mike briefly imagined the churning oblivion. But no. In spite of everything, he wanted to live.Besides, Jeff wo...

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“No More Games of Run and Hide” by Myranda Marie

Submitted to Contest #235

Susan shoved a second slice of buttered toast in her mouth as she searched for her running shoes. Boxes upon boxes which should have been clearly marked, announcing their contents somehow eluded that particular task. Never again will she move and think as she’s packing, “I’ll remember what’s in this box.",because she misplaced her marker for the fifth time that afternoon. Well, at least she was able to find the box containing the toaster, and more importantly, the coffee maker. Susan amused herself with thoughts of a new social media sensati...

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“A Decently Modest Proposal” by Allan Bernal

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #235

Hey you! Yes you, reading this story! Don’t worry, this isn’t some piece of meta fiction, I’m dictating what I say to a gracious volunteer who’ll post it for me. I’ve got an offer for you – and no, not like a door to door salesman peddling dull kitchen knives or what have you. You see, my offer is as genuine as a baby’s first laugh. My name is Donald Basemore-Cooper – quite a mouthful I know, my friends call me Donnie, DB, Coop, Basement, and so on, take your pick, they're like paint samples. But the people I do business with? Oh, they cal...

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“Why Your Daughter Won't Come Home” by Angela M

Submitted to Contest #235

Trigger warning: This story contains mentions of physical abuse and self harm. Running is a poor man’s exercise. So why am I even doing it? Oh, yeah. Because I’m poor now. These sneakers are tight but my budget is tighter. Dad bought me these shoes before he cut me off. I mean, Dad also used to hit me before he cut me off. Sneakers for some bruises. It was a fair trade, I guess? We don’t need to think about that anymore, though. I’m free now. And broke. No gym. Just running. At least this neighborhood is safe. Well, technically, ...

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“Currere Stadio” by Kristal Eckhardt

Submitted to Contest #235

CURRERE STADIOWalking through an antique store, I came across a section devoted entirely to old photos.Some were in ornate, gilded frames made of wood and plaster. Others were in desktop or easel frames; the size and shape of the photos was as varied as the frames. Round, square, oblong, rectangular; the standard sizes of eight by ten and five by seven were reserved for the more “recent” photos – those taken within the last seventy-plus years.But what grabbed my attention were the bins and boxes full of loose photos. They were...

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“C-Section Scar” by Bri Heron

Submitted to Contest #235

I can pack all of my belongings and my son’s in under thirty minutes. I attribute part of this to my military kid upbringing. My parents liked to live the minimalist lifestyle, they’d only put a few decorations up here and there. And while I hated seeing bare walls on each house or apartment we lived in; I definitely see the appeal now. My son is homeschooled because it is easier to do that then explain to his teachers why we move so often. And before you ask, it’s not because of the military. Granted, my son is only in first grade, so I’...

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“Runner in the Rye” by Jack Kimball

Submitted to Contest #235

“I’m sorry Granddad. It’s just Holly Hill is… is..."“I know, expensive," I said, saying what she couldn't.“That doesn’t mean you can’t live with me and Bill.”But seeing the way Annie put her hand to her chin as she was driving in the drizzling rain, the way she averted my eyes, how she teared up, we both knew there was no space in her tiny apartment.She pulled up to the light at the entrance to the mall, the traffic all backed up, the whites and reds of car lights in the gray light, the slow slapping of our windshield wipers. I looked around...

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$250

Prize money

312

Contest entries

121

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Feb 02, 2024 EST

Won by Kajsa Ohman 🏆

Title: KILLER IN THE WILLOWS

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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