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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#268: Reap What You Sow

It’s that time of year again — days are getting shorter, leaves are beginning to change their colors, and birds are starting to head south. While farmers across the world look to reap the rewards of their hard work, destiny too has its own harvest in mind…

The winds of fate are blowing over our short story contest this week, with prompts centered on getting what you deserve. What goes around comes around, as many like to say — so, whether your story is about someone reckoning with the skeletons in their closet or finally getting their just desserts, embrace the season of change and spin a tale where actions have consequences.

🥇 Winner

“An Apology to Mankind, Two Days After First Contact” by D Gorman

🏆 Winner of Contest #268

What follows is a transcript of an apology to the people of Earth, and specifically the residents of Silver Lake, Indiana. [BRACKETED] words indicate imprecise translation. Hello, people of Earth. This message is being translated into the language practiced by the humans who reside in the area designated Silver Lake, Indiana, using the Verpal Language Unscrambler 2. As my segment-mate Zolak is so fond of reminding me, our model is very outdated and overdue for replacement. Any translation errors that may occur are the result ...

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⭐️ Shortlisted

“Trial by Egotism” by Joseph Ellis

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #268

The Honorable Judge Harold Bribar strode to the bench bearing a coy smile. The court knew that smile well, as did millions watching on viewscreens all over Mars. As did tens of millions back on Earth who wouldn’t get the feed for another hour or so. They also knew the arch of his thick gray eyebrows, the well-trimmed salt-and-pepper hair he’d gracefully let recede, the petite spectacles he wore when reading, and the mild way he cleared his throat to bring the whole courtroom to attention. In offense to all known theories of jurisprudence, Ju...

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“Alone at the End of the World” by Matthew Henry

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #268

John Montague lived alone. While he had lovers in his younger years, he had never settled down with any of them and as middle age set in, he found that he was quite content with his lot. A successful software engineer, he had purchased a private home tucked away in a quiet corner of a popular neighborhood on the edge of town. Some nights, he lay awake thinking of the nightlife downtown and considered getting a Lyft or Uber to a trendy bar to recapture the exploits of his youth, but he always decided he would rather just stay home and watch T...

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This week's prompts

Your character gets everything they ever wanted — only to realize the true cost.

Short Story – 73 stories

Write a story about someone seeking forgiveness for their past actions.

Short Story – 93 stories

A character’s life of deceit unravels as their past catches up with their present. What are the consequences?

Short Story – 40 stories

Start a story with someone receiving a message from their past self, warning them of the consequences of their actions.

Short Story – 33 stories

Center your story around a character’s attempt to escape a bad situation that inadvertently leads them back to the source of their problems.

Short Story – 47 stories

Stories

“An Apology to Mankind, Two Days After First Contact” by D Gorman

🏆 Winner of Contest #268

What follows is a transcript of an apology to the people of Earth, and specifically the residents of Silver Lake, Indiana. [BRACKETED] words indicate imprecise translation. Hello, people of Earth. This message is being translated into the language practiced by the humans who reside in the area designated Silver Lake, Indiana, using the Verpal Language Unscrambler 2. As my segment-mate Zolak is so fond of reminding me, our model is very outdated and overdue for replacement. Any translation errors that may occur are the result ...

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“The Unowned Deceit” by Harry Stuart

Submitted to Contest #268

I’m not the best with words, not necessarily the spelling or grouping into a grammatical whole, but the pairing of them together into meaning. I have this sense of what holds in my heart, but then it comes out in an abbreviated awkwardness, the sounds coupled with sighs and stammerings, and I end up leaning into silence, a reluctance to own the sharing or the outcome. It is probably easier to say that I am the opposite of glib.—“I didn’t want to lose you,” that phrase keeps cycling through my head, a bunched heap of emotion.She is my excepti...

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“Through A Locked Door” by Daniel Rogers

Submitted to Contest #268

If you saw my wife, you'd tell me how stupid I was for hitting her. And I wouldn't argue. She's a looker. I mean, she makes women in the movies look butt ugly. But in my defense, if you only knew the things I put up with at work, you'd cut me some slack. I know what you're gonna say – that's no excuse. But, hey, don't worry. I'm going to apologize – if she'll let me. She's been crying in our room for hours. I've tried entering several times, but it's locked. All that punching and shouting must have drained me more than I imagined. Just turni...

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“A Cocktail of Truths” by Arthur Ingham

Submitted to Contest #268

The sterile scent of disinfectant clung to the air, cloying and thick, as I blinked back into consciousness. It felt like swimming through fog, my senses slowly returning, dragging my mind along with them. The world flickered into focus in pieces—the glaring hospital lights overhead, the cold white tiles beneath me, and the low hum of a machine somewhere nearby. Pain threaded through my body, sharp and immediate. My mouth was dry, my limbs stiff, and each breath was like sandpaper scraping against my insides. But I was alive. I blinked, tryi...

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“Echoes of Yesterday” by Jax Wilder

Submitted to Contest #268

The shrill ring of my phone pierced through the quiet of my apartment, startling me. I glanced at the screen and froze. The caller ID was my own name. Not a friend, not a family member, but me. Heart pounding, I hesitated, fingers hovering over the answer button. My mind raced, trying to come up with some rational explanation for why I was receiving a call from myself. Then, curiosity got the better of me. I answered. “Hello?” My voice came out breathy, almost afraid. “Don't go back to him.” The voice on the other end was unmistakable—my voi...

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“Saved by a Laughing Parrot on the Ship Destiny's Dreams ” by Kristi Gott

Submitted to Contest #268

The books waited on their shelves to tell their stories to the next person.They were in the Biblioteca in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, on Guanabara Bay, the western coast of South America, in the 1800s.Ten year old Marco walked the aisles and set the returned books back on their home shelves. It was another serene day with his family of books, who were alive with adventures, mysteries, and wisdom.The words from the story he was reading last night floated through Marco’s mind.“Square white sails filled with wind, the ship flew over the waves,...

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“No Do-overs” by Murray Burns

Submitted to Contest #268

No Do-overs“I shall pass this way but once; therefore, any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being, let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”- Ralph Waldo EmersonDear future me,Don’t settle.Sincerely,Present SelfJohn thought it was clever, short, and to the point, good advice for any young person about to leave high school and wade off into the great unknown. A positive message- dream, strive, and make...

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“it starts with (1) text message” by Jing L.

Submitted to Contest #268

ROCHESTER, NY. 9:34 PMThe phone chimes. Unaware that he had spaced out in the shower, Harris reaches through the curtain and grabs his phone from the vanity top. He sighs. Not only did he space out in the shower, but he had been staring at his shelf of bath products for the past thirty minutes, while the water trickled absentmindedly over his face. Harris turns the water off, grabbing his towel as he steps out. He checks his notifications:(1) TEXT MESSAGEHarris spends the next 10 minutes changing into his sleepwear and brewing himself a...

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“Pollen from One's Past” by Max Wightwick

Submitted to Contest #268

Pollen from One's PastCleo gazed at her enormous garden, summoning an unsweet acidity of all the times she had spent in this palatial house. She could not help but see a lustreless frieze when staring at the greenery inhabiting her pristine garden. Was it the vodka, disguising as sinless water, of which Cleo imbibed, that dampened her perspective? Or, perhaps, it was her having to vacate this house for her husband’s want of an imperial mansion. O’ how troublesome living is for the rich! In Cleo’s backdrop, resounding throughout the cave...

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“Past Imperfect” by Helen A Smith

Submitted to Contest #268

TW: mentions of mental and physical abuse.Bill sat bolt upright in the hotel bed, heart pounding to a familiar refrain. The dream had reasserted itself with a vengeance.From the moment he’d seen the updated list of people attending the conference, one name had stood out: Dake Scratchard was the name of the boy who’d haunted Bill Brown’s life more years than he cared to remember. Dreams fuelled by past memories disturbed his nights when equal amounts of dread and fear surged through his veins, rendering him helpless.As always, the nightmare w...

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“Bargain on the Orient Express” by Trudy Jas

Submitted to Contest #268

The train’s sharp whistle startled her out of a restless sleep. Though the benches were upholstered in plush velvet, being squeezed between Mr. X’s boney frame and Mrs. Y’s overflowing one, Caro was trapped. Across the narrow space were the sleeping figures of the young girl, her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Z and, near the door, a young man.Caro had tried all afternoon not to ogle him, but her eyes had a mind of their own. Using the half-light from the exit sign over the door, she stole another glance.He smiled at her. Tipping his head toward...

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“Door Knocker” by Story Time

Submitted to Contest #268

The door knocker is a small girl holding a puppy. Admire the creativity. Who would make such a door knocker? Who would purchase one? The Bird would. The Bird does everything in such a way that nobody else can believe what they’ve done when they see what it is. Door knockers. The way The Bird eats an everything bagel. The way The Bird drives a garbage truck. Each action shines a light on the action or the object The Bird is engaging with, and brings forth new insight. Knock on the door. The Bird answers. You begin your apology. The Bird close...

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“A Letter to my Younger Self” by Karen Hope

Submitted to Contest #268

Dear younger me,It’s hard to believe we’re almost eligible for Medicare. It seems like just yesterday we were starting out in this world. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not done yet. I’m hoping we have at least 20 or 30 good years ahead of us. But I thought now was a good time to reflect on some of the regrettable things we did when we were that energetic young woman, that idealistic but not as wise version of the person we are today.I realize you’re not responsible for anything we did before we were 18. The brain isn’t fully developed then, so I...

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“Innocence Lost” by Christina Miller

Submitted to Contest #268

TW: Mentions of abuse, gore, death The little girl smiles up at me trustingly. The gap-toothed grin tugs at my lips, and I tilt them up slightly, though more for the money I'm about to make ransoming the youngest daughter of the Carnelli family back to them than in response to the girl's joy. "Thank you for your help, mister! I'd never be able to do this on my own." Aniela's squeaky voice should grate my nerves, like most children's voices, but it's endearing. In a sort of get rich quick kind of way. "Of course! What kind of monster wo...

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“Out of Hand” by Tommy Goround

Submitted to Contest #268

All right, the omnipresent omni-powerful phone thing is getting out of hand. I mean a guy can’t even take a girl out anymore without her trying to wrap his phone in a wad of tin foil. They follow us into the restroom on the first date. Not to make sure we are washing hands but to make sure we do not defile the stalls with the lust which is founded in the Wall Street Journal. “I can see your feet!” Olivia is screaming at me and I thought it was a private place and the waiter understood. He would fill her cup with iced tonics...

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$250

Prize money

286

Contest entries

129

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 20, 2024 EST

Won by D Gorman 🏆

Title: An Apology to Mankind, Two Days After First Contact

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.

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