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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#257: Shakespeare

He's the writer who requires no introduction. Probably the world's most famous playwright and poet, Shakespeare's tragedies, comedies, and sonnets have been studied and performed for the last 400 years. You'll be hard pressed to find someone who wasn't forced to read 'Sonnet 18' in English class, or to appear in a regrettable high school production of Romeo and Juliet. But he's a mainstay of our literary education for a reason. His writing is ubiquitous and seminal, and there's really no overstating the influence Shakespeare has had on art, literature, and even our day-to-day speech. 


It's almost unbelievable that, in the hundreds of short story contests we've hosted, we've never dedicated one to the Bard himself — and so, this week is the week...

This week's prompts

Write a story named after, and inspired by, one of Shakespeare's plays. Think modern retellings, metanarratives, subversions, etc.

Narrative – 72 stories

Write your story in the form of a script, complete with stage directions.

Narrative – 33 stories

Write a story in which a case of mistaken identity plays a pivotal role.

Funny – 24 stories

Write a story about a tragic hero.

Dramatic – 57 stories

Set your story during rehearsals for a production of a Shakespeare play.

High School – 29 stories

Stories

“Tale of the Horse Rescuer” by Bob Faszczewski

Submitted to Contest #257

     A nightmare took over the mind of Harold Thumperton on September 15, 1818 and caused him to toss and turn all night in a restless sweat.  His dream recalled in much too vivid detail the tumultuous sail across the Atlantic that had brought him from England five years before to seek his fortune as a wheat farmer in the rich fields of Maryland’s Lower Eastern Shore.       Over the course of the eight-week journey the ship carrying Harold and his family had run into seas so ro...

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“Bone Eaters” by Rob Garth

Submitted to Contest #257

Castus was deep in the ancient wood, it had been a long, difficult journey, but now it was close to done. He smiled. It quickly turned to a grimace as pain shot through his face. He may never be able to see out of his left eye again, a dirty white handkerchief serving as an eye patch, wrapped roughly around his head, but as he might not live past lunch it seemed of little consequence. At least Castus thought it was morning, and from the hunger pains he felt, probably close to lunch. It seemed oddly cruel that his last meal might have been mo...

1 comment 1
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“The Fall of a Hero” by Emily :)

Submitted to Contest #257

Achilles was a hero. All of Greece would know it when he went to war against the Trojans and killed their most valued warrior, Hector, son of Priam. Prior to that, Achilles was merely a boy. A boy, favoured by Phthia's people, who played the lyre and spent time on Mount Pelion with the wise mentor Chiron, learning music and hunting. He would grow up to be a somebody. Patroclus was none of that. Unlike Achilles, Patroclus couldn't play the lyre and wasn't liked by his father's men. He only spent time with the centaur because of Achilles. He w...

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“Honor Killing” by Cedric Herman

Submitted to Contest #257

Sensitive content note: implied sexual abuse, violence & gore, mental disability. Inside a cell encased by four-inch thick walls, housing one narrow bed and a toilet, locked behind a heavy, iron door with a narrow slit window of fortified glass, sits a man humming. His face has no hair, only scars littering his skin like an infection—none bigger than a needle but more numerous than a flock of locusts. His left eyelid is permanently swollen, swallowing half of his sight. Inmates call him ‘The Cyclops’. His nose has a dent in the middle, c...

2 comments 2
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“The Bullet That Changed Forever” by Eva Reyes

Submitted to Contest #257

I don’t think he knew I noticed him. After all, he was the shy kid, never speaking and hardly breathing. I wished I could’ve talked to him more than I did. I thought of all the times my friends had pushed me into him and we all laughed heartlessly.  I remember one day, in class when my friends had purposefully dumped glue all over his seat. He sat in it without realizing it was there. The whole class burst out laughing. Even after they stopped I still heard it. I could see his cheeks redden and his eyes glisten with tears. A single tear...

3 comments 3
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“Tears in Space” by M B

Submitted to Contest #257

The alarms were blaring as the ship drew closer to the wormhole. Systems were failing and the vessel shuddered like it was having a seizure. Theodore Sphinx was floating in the chaos along with various other objects that had either broken loose or were never secured before the gravity drive failed.  Using a crate to propel himself to the other side of the wall, he moved like the experienced spaceman he was: He hadn’t made it so far up the ranks of the patrol just for looking good in uniform.  How had this all gone wrong, The blonde...

4 comments 4
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“The Noble Heart” by Jane Andrews

Submitted to Contest #257

Author's note: Technically, a tragic hero in Shakespeare's plays is someone of noble birth whose fatal flaw ultimately leads to their demise. My story is written in the vein of a traditional Persian fairy tale (think of The Thousand and One Nights) but with a tragic hero of lowly birth. You could argue that her noble heart is her fatal flaw, much like the richer Timon of Athens in Shakespeare's play of the same name. There was once a young girl and her name was Nousha. When Nousha was born, her mother breathed her last, and so it was that No...

3 comments 3
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“A Midsummer Night's Rave” by C.J. Carlin

Submitted to Contest #257

In the gathering dusk, Puck the pixie peered out from around the hydrangea bush. The humans were gone, retreated into the house after their Solstice ritual, but there was a pipkin of honey and cream left on the altar, surrounded by fruit of all kinds. (Honey will actually make a pixie drunk, because of the way in which their bodies process raw sugar.) These were offerings to the Fae Folk for the power they lent to the midsummer rite. Puck whistled, and the gathered Fae emerged from the trees and shrubs and flowers where they had been hiding,...

1 comment 1
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“MacBeth” by Paul Littler

Submitted to Contest #257

    “Ten minutes until ‘go live!’” Maggie Campbell strode through the narrow hallway of Ten Downing Street. Scurrying figures piled paperwork into boxes to be taken into the back garden. She picked a speck of lint off Prime Minister MacBeth’s shoulder as he stood at the window, looking across the lawn.    “I need to make a call,” he replied quietly, eyes fixed on his staff carrying boxes to the rear of the grounds.    “Make it quick Dougal, they’re baying for blood. Pull yourself to...

2 comments 2
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“Waves of Betrayal” by Stefan Sofiski

Submitted to Contest #257

“Our next speaker is Mihail… Ehm, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get this wrong. Ion… Ionesco?” The session moderator turned to Mihail with an exaggerated puzzled expression.“Ah, yes… That’s right”, Mihail said.“I am sorry, I don’t do well with names from…” The woman looked down at her program. “Moldova? I am sorry. I must admit I don’t know where this is.” The moderator turned to face the audience, raising her hands in a mock gesture of surrender. A stifled chuckle ran through the lecture room.Mihail felt a rush of blood to the head. His tie ...

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“Making Mountains” by Carol Stewart

Submitted to Contest #257

Matt couldn’t remember his father, but he could recall the slippers – boats with no sail, no means of manoeuvre from Port Hearth to Chair, other than that which he conjured up in his four-year-old brain, and which, when his mother was busy elsewhere, as was often the case, he physically effected, steering the choppy tides of Carpet by the power of his own two hands; a whizz across the ocean bright, safe docking in the harbour, and then the passengers would come - all the way down the slippery slopes of Footrest; soldiers with their guns...

8 comments 8
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“Juliet's Judgement” by Ariel Hittle

Submitted to Contest #257

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, retain that dear perfection which…” As the words trailed off, so did the attention of all those surrounding the stage. Silence, lasting five seconds. Five seconds of agonizing need to recall words that weren’t surfacing. “Cut!” Mr. Wellington's voice echoed throughout the empty auditorium as all the crew flinched. “Cut, cut, cut!” Stepping away from the set, I refused to raise my eyes to the level of his face. I h...

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“Love's Labour” by Simone Ellis

Submitted to Contest #257

Christopher stomps forward towards the stage.“Bah! This meant to be a tragedy of romance, but you just keep making it a comedy of errors.”First the scenery was a fiasco and now his Juliet is squeamish about the possibility of having to kiss Romeo. Amateurs! Amateurs; therein lies the rub, working with amateurs. He was made for greater things than trying to wrangle the beauty of Shakespeare out of pubescent mouths. Bah, what whinging through reminiscence breaks? Ah, but it is his Juliet once again. Of course,“…but him? Can’t we just, like, I ...

1 comment 1
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“Rosaline's Role” by Rachel Williams

Submitted to Contest #257

There were a couple of things in Rosaline Dawson’s life that she knew to be true.One, was that she was born to play a role in Romeo and Juliet. Not only did her own name make it seem like fate, but ever since she had joined the drama group at Eastview Academy, she had wanted to begin furthering her talents as an actress. It was her dream to become a star and ‘tread the boards’, as a seasoned actor might say and, what better way to do that than being the star in one of the most iconic plays than the bard himself?The second thing the teen knew...

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“Ghost Writer” by Robin Kaczmarczyk

Submitted to Contest #257

Having died, the bard found himself in Avernus. His throat was dry like the sands of the Sahara, and, generally speaking, he suffered an unspeakable warmth in his bones. He walked along a long road filled with dread trees; dead, devastated and dramatic. Fortunately, after a short walk in the most horrid country a man could dream, he found a tavern, a tiny little spot of sense in a senseless reality. The sign on the door of the tavern read: “The Bard’s Tail”, and it showed an image of Shakespeare himself, albeit with a tail behind his ba...

1 comment 1
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$250

Prize money

215

Contest entries

79

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jul 05, 2024 EST

Won by Keba Ghardt 🏆

Title: Your Animal Side

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!

Prompts | Many Hands | 2024-09

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Prompts | Many Hands | 2024-09

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