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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#238: Aposiopesis

An ancient figure of speech, literally meaning “becoming silent,” aposiopesisis a very fancy word for a very common predicament. Aposiopesis occurs when a sentence breaks off and is left unfinished, suggesting the speaker is too overwhelmed to go on. Think “I’m so angry, I could —”, “You don’t think they…?”, or “I just thought…”

This week’s prompts are inspired by unfinished utterances, communication catastrophes, and those times when you just can’t quite...

This week's prompts

Start or finish your story with a speaker unable to finish their sentence, perhaps overcome by emotion.

Angst – 92 stories

Write a story in which a conversation takes place where the true subject is only implied.

Dialogue – 40 stories

Write a story including the line “I can’t say it.”

Dialogue – 58 stories

Write a story in which an important message is cut off, leaving characters to wonder or puzzle out what was left unsaid.

Mystery – 48 stories

Set your story at a silent retreat.

Angst – 44 stories

Stories

“Screaming in Silence” by Courtney Caruso

Submitted to Contest #238

Courtney had always been surrounded by noise. As a barber, her days were filled with the constant buzz of clippers, the chatter of clients, the honking of cars outside, and the blaring of radios. She loved her job, but the harshness of sound followed her home, where her husband Sam and their rambunctious kids created their own symphony of chaos. Every evening was a whirlwind of activity. Dinner had to be cooked, spills had to be cleaned, and somehow amidst the chaos, they tried to carve out moments of family time. But even in the quietest mo...

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“Chipped ” by M W

Submitted to Contest #238

The steps were chipped. Just like her. Jules swung her crutches up the stairs, two steps at a time. Her father’s lips twitched upwards like a rubber band that had lost it’s spring. There hadn’t been a lot to smile about lately. Jules hadn’t said a word to anyone. His little girl, whose colt like legs had skipped in rhythm to the rope he’d bought her not too long ago. Singing rhymes with words he’d never heard. Cap on backwards. Ponytail swishing. When had she stopped singing? He longed to hear the thud, thud of rubber sneakers on asphalt aga...

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“Hereditary.” by Júlia Tammela

Submitted to Contest #238

Note: this story contains mentions of rape, suicide and murder (none explicit). I sit alone every night. No sounds. At all. I try to breathe as lightly as I can so I don't make too much noise. The last thing I want is to disturb his silence. A few years ago Mom told me how they met. They saw each other at a bar in their hometown and since it was quite loud they decided to go for a walk to get to know eachother better. Clichê. I wonder if she had never seen serial killer documentaries. "Do not talk to strangers", you might end up dead. ...

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“Whispers of Serenity” by Cynthia Hansford

Submitted to Contest #238

The hushed tones of the forest welcomed Sarah as she stepped across the threshold into Serenity Pines. She inhaled, allowing the scent of cedar to envelop her senses. It was a marked contrast from the stale city air that clung to her like a second skin. Here, there were no blaring horns or endless crowds, only a stillness that settled into her bones. She wandered aimlessly, brushing her fingers against the rough bark of an ancient pine. The tree stood stoically, weathered roots plunging deep into the fertile soil. Sarah envied its stea...

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“The Tree Palace” by Damara Hutchins

Submitted to Contest #238

The tree house. Her tree house. There, she could go anywhere, say anything, be anyone. It was her sanctuary against the world outside. She thought of it more as a tree palace when she grasped the weathered wooden ladder to ascend into her private world. The floor gently bent under her weight and the rusted tin roof rattled with the breeze while the oak limbs rustled a polite discussion of the late summer season, accenting its message with the occasional acorn drop. The smell was delicious, like a mildly mildewed forest mixed with the warmth...

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“All of My Lasts” by Megan Dunn

Submitted to Contest #238

TW: suicide, grief “Hello, everyone. My name is Angela, mother of—” My voice wavers. I clear my throat of the emotions trying to clog it and take a deep breath. In the mirror, tired, weary eyes stare back at me. I am my only audience here, I try to tell myself. There’s no one to keep your composure for except for yourself and the soap. Gently, I run my fingers over the small leather-bound book resting on the vanity. The spine is worn, cracks illuminating the pale flesh of the leather beneath. A gold metal pen sits tucked into the cover...

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“Torches of freedom” by Maria Cotiga

Submitted to Contest #238

The lake was deep and it only got deeper as you looked. You could see the reflection of your own eyes and would stare until you saw your own mother's eyes. And that sight alone was too much for me. Too much for who I am. I can be a smoker instead. Much simpler. I can dedicate my life to giving up on something and no one would bat an eye. Much easier if you ask me. I stare into the visions and glimmer of my lit up cigarette reflecting on the blue wet glass. I am not ready to go back to the funeral. And even if I was, I would...

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“Letting Go” by Janna Benton-White

Submitted to Contest #238

*Trigger Warning: Parent illness, hospital imagery, death* "But I- I…" My eyes widened in horror and disgust. "I can't do that!" "Yes, you can. You can do anything you put your mind to doing. Watch." I sat speechless as I watched my father, covered in sweat and dirt from the rich Alabama forest, lift the wriggling grub worm, toss it in his mouth, and begin to chew. His face was stoic while his jaws worked. "That’s so gross!" My eight year old self was repulsed. "I think you mean 'nasty,' or 'sick'ning,'" he said. "'Gross' means large. I pr...

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“MIDNIGHT RAIN ” by Salkah Hashmi

Submitted to Contest #238

The petite hand of a pregnant mother was placed gracefully on her swollen belly as she waddled behind her mischievous twins, Judy and Jeremy. The twins laughed at their mother's struggle to keep up with them, and a victorious smile graced their chubby faces as they witnessed their mother huffing and finally settling down on the recliner to catch her breath. “What happened Mommy? Aren't you going to scold us today?” Their innocent question brought a chuckle from their tired mother as she ruffled their hair and kissed them feverishly, savourin...

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“Abandoned Warehouse ” by Rachel Wanzer

Submitted to Contest #238

We ran screaming for the car. Jesse fell twice on the way. The first time I helped him up as he looked behind us. The second time I could hear the thuds. The water held in the pot holes were vibrating with each thud. Either he would make it to the car, or he wouldn’t. I heard him scrambling and scraping on the wet asphalt trying to get traction in his Vans. Great shoes for boarding, terrible shoes for running away. “Shit, shit, shit,” I heard Jesse repeat over and over again as he loped for the car i...

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“The Incident” by Edd Baker

Submitted to Contest #238

Leonard stared at his chipped and faded CU Denver coffee mug, the vortex of Columbian ground beans almost a black hole of doom that threatened to pull him in. Though he didn't consider himself old (only recently turning thirty), he noticed that time moved faster the farther he progressed in age. This last week, however, seemed to crawl at the pace of a snail in a race determined to lose. To be fair, Leonard usually felt this way. Since back when he was a boy even. A creeping expectation of nebulous dread. That at any time, for any reason, so...

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“Dad” by Ace Slaughter

Submitted to Contest #238

*Trigger warning* This story alludes to substance abuse and struggles with mental health. No substance abuse is graphically depicted. No self-harm or violence is depicted. "Dad is..." My brain was unable to process how to finish that sentence. You'd think it would be an easy one, considering the life he'd led up to that point. The ending wasn’t a surprise. We’d been expecting it for years. The most my brain could do was run screaming backwards in time through every catalogued memory of him and picture every story I'd ever heard about his lif...

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“Dangerous Times and Dog Crimes” by Eleanor J Winstanley

Submitted to Contest #238

A weary, bowing forest framed the dwindling lake, which presently still served as a mirror, for those tall, failing trees; they seemed to gaze at their undisturbed reflections with a hushed acceptance of their desperately aged appearance. Breeze was absent and the oppressive, unrelenting heat battered Tanvi’s shoulders while she slowly bent forward on her branch, observing those still trees across the ebbing lake and the sanguine surface of its water. The loaded air was absent of sound. She breathed in deepl...

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“How Death Killed Fate” by Ruth Eddleman

Submitted to Contest #238

It was a lowly sort of loathing. An obsessive waiting, always pondering, daydreaming of a chance to take a dance with Fate. To test the waters of opportunity. Some said Fate was a demon, deceitful and cunning, and full of spite. Others said Fate was an idea, a concept to ration out the cruel coincidence or blissful happenings of life. But for Marx Mallahan, he knew Fate’s true identity. Fate was a woman. Her laugh was ironic, she flicked her wrist for coincidence, and crooked her finger at destined moments, leaving a trail of deja vu in her ...

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“Flamingo” by J. Aizu

Submitted to Contest #238

A young man with a pimple-pocked face placed a grey plastic cup filled with iced lemon tea before me. I explained—or tried to, at least—that I had ordered milk tea, but he either did not hear me or did not care; either way, I was stuck with the lemon tea. It had four—no, five—slices of lemon, which I crushed with the plastic straw. A container filled with packets of sugar was on the edge of the table, and after having tasted the tea and deemed it both much too bitter and now much too sour, I tore up and poured in three packets. The sugar was...

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$250

Prize money

282

Contest entries

98

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Feb 23, 2024 EST

Won by Weronika L 🏆

Title: Five Turns of the Hourglass

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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