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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#255: The Five Stages

It's a commonly held belief that, when we grieve a loss, we go through five emotional phases: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. Science tends to disagree; there's no actual evidence that we go through these stages, or at least not in a neat, linear fashion. But despite this, the model remains a part of our popular consciousness, and is frequently referenced in art, literature, and day-to-day conversation — perhaps because the idea of having a map to our grief, a way to organize and compartmentalize our most complicated feelings, is so alluring.

This week's contest is inspired by the model, and by the feelings described within it. Your characters don't have to be grieving a loss of some kind; they may simply be navigating the challenges of life in general. Whichever route you choose, begin with one of the five stages.

This week's prompts

Write a story about a someone who's in denial.

Character – 68 stories

Write a story about anger.

Angst – 64 stories

Center your story around a character bargaining for something that's important to them.

Dramatic – 43 stories

Start your story with a character in despair.

Dark – 91 stories

Write a story about someone finding acceptance.

Character – 99 stories

Stories

“Wardrobe Space” by Sharon Williams

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #255

As she drove down the slip road onto the dual carriageway Nic said, ‘Pick a space. Accelerate or slow down into it.’With a little hesitation, she joined the stream of traffic and was wedged between a white transit behind her and a mini in front, other vehicles moved rapidly past in the fast lane. ‘Only a couple of junctions and then you reach the turn-off.’She was gripping the steering wheel tightly and could feel...

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“Percy Smart in Denial” by Kaitlyn Wadsworth

Submitted to Contest #255

Percival Smart, Percy for short, lives alone in a palatial house left to him by his deceased parents – not that fellow humans can confirm this. It is no ordinary home. The security resembles that of Fort Knox. The entire property is surrounded by high, spike-topped walls; it has a security gate and camera surveillance. Percy likes his privacy. As no one can get in to check the extent of his precautions, rumor has it that there are electrical devices and mines to eliminate the uninvited. This is reckoned by neighborhood children who are ...

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“His Name Was Iggy” by David McCahan

Submitted to Contest #255

Iggy didn’t know his name for the first five years of his life. He was called other things, other names, none seemed right, some seemed wrong, some hateful, some scary. The loud ones, the ones accompanied with raised hands. Those scared him the most. Those were the ones that hurt, that brought hurt, brought pain.He learned to retreat, to beg, to pray, surrendering with his front legs raised high, on his haunches as close as he could to being on his knees. A promise. He’d do better. Please let me do better. I promise to change, to do better. ...

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“Elvis - A Far Better Tune To Die To ” by Trisha Lee

Submitted to Contest #255

Elvis - A Far Better Tune To Die To - Trisha Lee“What a fucking waste,” said Lilly, pulling the hospital curtains closed around her.“Shush,” snapped a voice from the other side.Lilly startled.“Sorry!” she said. She hadn’t meant to speak her thoughts out loud.She looked at the bed, taking in everything for the first time. Fred lay under a starched white sheet, the standard hospital blue open-weave blanket thrown over him. His eyes were closed, his face stony grey, his breath rasping. There was an oxygen tube up his nose and an empty cannula s...

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“Momma's Axe” by Milly Orie

Submitted to Contest #255

This story contains references to violence and mental health issues, and mentions of blood. I take my mother's axe from beside the door.It's heavy in my hands, the wood smoothed from use and yet still rough enough to cause blisters. The blade is dulled, like my reason. We’re about the same age, this axe and I. It makes sense that we would be a little worse for wear. I'm not used to the idea of weapons, especially in my own hands. It's not a thought that's crossed my mind until recently.Momma would not have categorized this as a weapon. ...

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“Kintsugi” by Ev Datsyk

Submitted to Contest #255

Trigger warnings: Loss and dementia I got an email this week about submitting to a short story contest. The theme is The Five Stages. What stage am I in, spending my first Father’s Day thinking about the father I have in pieces? Is it selfish to say, “I want more of you”? Is it ungrateful to say, “There just isn’t enough”? I miss the whole. The parts that are left are too small, and the parts I remember are things I want to forget. They’re under my skin like shards of glass, and I need them to rub down into sand alright already, Jesus C...

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“Folding for Leon” by Nan Qu

Submitted to Contest #255

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Eight. Nine. And ten. Sarah laid out the origami stars on the cream-colored table top in one line, equal distance apart. The paper strips were galaxy-themed. Leon’s favorite. The stars, the size of Sarah’s thumbnail, glistened in different shades of blue, from dawn to dusk. Sarah scooped them up and placed them in a mason jar with a hinged glass lid. She picked out the jar because she liked how unobstructed it was. There was no metal lid. No embossing on the body. It was completely see-thr...

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“Suck It Up” by Jed Cope

Submitted to Contest #255

Fred nurses his pint as though it’s the final part of his death row meal. He stares down into the amber depths contemplating all the answers that reside there. Answers reduced in size so that he can no longer see them. The fact of the matter is that he’s suffered that reduction. He is deflated and no longer has awe for the infinite. His part in this charade was written out long ago. He finishes his pint, then looks around him. He doesn’t look lost exactly, more perturbed that this is where he’s been washed up. A useless piece of flotsam havi...

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“Perfect Wife, Perfect Life” by Jamie Duncan

Submitted to Contest #255

Audrey smiled into the camera, her perfectly quaffed hair and designer outfit accentuating her bubbly personality, as she pushed aesthetically pleasing platter of cookies toward the camera. “Today, I asked my husband what he wanted to eat,” her soft voiceover crooned. “He said he didn’t care what was for dinner, but he really wanted some chocolate chip cookies. So I set to work creating soft and chewy chocolate chip cookies from scratch.” The next shot was Audrey spreading cacao beans on a parchment lined sheet pan. “I put s...

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“Straussian Rage” by Patrick Druid

Submitted to Contest #255

Author's noteIn a way, I wrote this in honor of my mother. She would often share opera with me and this story sort pays an homage to both her and the opera.Straussian RageThe storm clouds hovered over the fortress of Atreus. The rains continued to pummel the roof as if to break through and flood the entire hall, yet the fortress stood still in defiance of the gods. The slaves were gathered together washing the Mistress’s clothes clean while they themselves were soaked to the bone. They all knew what awaited them if they didn't get ...

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“Flight Risk” by Nita A Mozzi

Submitted to Contest #255

She traps the little bird inside her fist. The soft, round edges of the wooden bird token brush against the cold sweat coating Nadia’s palms. It is a souvenir she brought from home before the semester started. She bought it for herself, but soon, it will belong to someone else. She holds her fist close to her chest and stares at the full moon outside her window. Her short breaths become rhythmic, mechanic, mimicking the faint blow of the vent above her head. In this moment, breathing feels like an action that slowly succumbs to a silent pray...

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“Seven Minutes Past Seven” by Hannah Gillam

Submitted to Contest #255

TW: Child loss and strong themes of griefThe room was silent as the midwives and doctors paused. “What!? What’s wrong? Where is my baby!?” Mallory was breathless, her words were shaky as she cried out for the son she’d just birthed. Her hair was soaked in sweat after a gruelling 19 hour labour and her lower body tingled with the sensation of numbness. Her heart threw itself at her ribs as the silence grew louder. “What!?” her eyes darted from person to person. She lifted her head, and the top of her chest tightened as her eyes found her s...

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“Don't Forget Me” by Daniel Legare

Submitted to Contest #255

Bernie comes out of the kitchen and puts the plate down in front of me. An itch swells up on my skin.“I don’t want tomatoes.”“You love tomatoes.”“Don’t tell me what I love or don’t love.”“Fine, I’ll take them.” Bernie moves the tomato slices onto his plate and starts to eat. He periodically looks out the window. He’s usually so chatty. I don’t feel like talking right now though, so that’s good. I pick at my eggs.“What are you doing today,” I say to my plate of quickly cooling food.Bernie keeps looking out the window, chewing slowly.“I think ...

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“Marianne's Vengeance: Dark Thoughts” by Martin Maynard

Submitted to Contest #255

This is a Fan-Fic story from Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility Marianne's Vengeance: Dark ThoughtsMarianne walked briskly, her steps firm and purposeful as she moved through the lush countryside surrounding the Palmers' estate. Her mind, usually so full of romantic reveries and poetic musings, was now consumed by a dark storm of anger and betrayal. Each step seemed to echo the tumult within her soul, her heart beating in rhythm with the fierce determination that propelled her forward.How could he? How could Willoughby, whom she had trusted...

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“What's the Point” by Ralph Aldrich

Submitted to Contest #255

Bedford Home for the Aged is located in Chatham, New Hampshire. It was orginally an Victorian house that has been converted into a nursing home. It was built in the eighteen hundreds and has a wrap-around porch with a sky-blue ceiling and a battleship grey floor. It faces east and often receives a cool easterly breeze, so many of the occupants don’t use it much. It’s too cold for the elderly. The only steady customer is Earl. Earl likes to be alone, so the coolness suits him just fine. People think that Ea...

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$250

Prize money

365

Contest entries

142

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jun 21, 2024 EST

Won by Phoebe Barr 🏆

Title: Some Peace and Quiet

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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