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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#27: Agatha Christie

It's no secret why one of the most-repeated writing tips is: to read. You can learn endless craft wisdoms by reading the works of literary greats — and also lesser-known authors, too. Reading, in general, is simply a valuable way to improve your skills as a writer.

This week, we're pulling inspiration from the author behind two of crime fiction's most beloved sleuths: Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. Yes, each of the below prompts relate in some way to themes, symbols, or other common elements in the writings of Agatha Christie.

Want to learn more about the Grand Dame of crime fiction? Check out our Agatha Christie reading guide!

🥇 Winning story

“Seaglass” by Natalie Frank

That time of my life feels slimy and dank. My father belongs to the dredges of my memory where he sits, weaving a sturdy net with leather hands as I remember him. His boats leave a trail of shimmery black oil, the raw color of the sky on days of tormenting, angry waves and storms. The fish my father brought in were always cold and tasted of the sea, no matter how thoroughly my mother cleaned them o...

29 comments 29 WINNER 🏆

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This week's prompts:

Write a short story that takes place on a train.

General – 140 stories

Write a short story about a jury of people tasked with making a decision. (It doesn't necessarily need to be a court jury.)

General – 33 stories

Write a short story in which a specialist is called upon to carry out a job.

General – 42 stories

Write a short story that ends with a twist.

Mystery – 176 stories

Write a short story that takes place in a quaint, idyllic, English village.

General – 35 stories

Stories

“Seaglass” by Natalie Frank

That time of my life feels slimy and dank. My father belongs to the dredges of my memory where he sits, weaving a sturdy net with leather hands as I remember him. His boats leave a trail of shimmery black oil, the raw color of the sky on days of tormenting, angry waves and storms. The fish my father brought in were always cold and tasted of the sea, no matter how thoroughly my mother cleaned them o...

29 comments 29 WINNER 🏆

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“Little Cruelties” by Mark Jackson

Tuesday, 4th of September 2018Even though I know you don’t care, I’ll tell you anyway: Since you left, I’ve been asleep most of the time. I still think about what happened with you and the kids, and how I ended up like this. I’ve written it all down here, between the pages of this notebook. Who knows, they might even use it against me one day. A motive. Yesterday, I got out of bed aro...

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“How Hard We Learn” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

She laughed at his weird unfunny jokes because, in a way, he made her laugh. Or maybe it was simply because she wanted him to notice her smile. She would stop by his stupid little office every day after getting off the train and she would sit on a chair and listen to jokes no one actually found funny. He did not seem to care that his jokes were extremely bland or that the workers who sat on tables and chairs around him found him stupid. He just went on, everyday, cracking the same tasteless jokes and expecting nothing else.She was ...

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“Long Live the Rest of Us” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Chair no12: What happened? Tell us...I used to think we were halves of a whole, like sea and land, hopelessly clutching the last strands of reality. We would wake up side by side in a strange room, inhaling nothing but the smell of winter and strong coffee. And when we blinked, we were introduced to a surreal atmosphere, just the both of us.Then things changed. Not as numbers do, of course, but as winter comes and goes. We grew apart. We were married and yet it felt like we were strangers, falling apart by our own mistakes.

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“Mr. Brown's Retirement Plan” by Dana Schellings

Everyone, no matter how ordinary they might seem, has at least one extraordinary story to tell. Take the case of an ordinary man named Mr. Brown, a retired truck driver from a quiet New England town. Mr. Brown spent decades driving produce all over the country until his company took him to dinner at a moderately priced restaurant, handed him a gold-plated watch and showed him the door. Since then he’s spent his days watching golf on TV, feeding the ducks in the park, and plotting to kill his wife. &...

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“Why a Lottery?” by Scott Blanke

Hordes of robed populous crowded around the few stalls. The stench of unwashed bodies permeates the air. The market holds little produce and what there is fought over valiantly. Waves of heat come off the sands making up the floors. Street urchins wearing rags beg on every corner. The customers ignore the emaciated beggars. The crowds are so dense, one has to bull one's way up to any stall. Rudeness is the norm. The background hubbub is deafening. No one seems to be listening.

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“A meeting, a rescue and a remembrance ” by Lauren Smith

Myles tented his slim fingers together, pressing his fingertips together until they blossomed purple under the dim light from the train compartment light overhead. The light was yellow, not white, and put everything around him into sepia tones of brown, orange and tan. It was a boring carriage, as train carriages went. Unplumped cushions sluggishly slouched on the wooden benches and gold trim peeled at the signs affixed to the walls. ATTENTION! They declared, DO NOT LEAVE YOUR LUGGAGE BEHIND! That was all very good, Myles presumed, if you...

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“Feast of Anastenaia” by Zilla Babbitt

The village lay upon a great grassy steppe, where the winds swept down from the forest and the children heard noises at night, coming from the mountain. The rains were coming. The sky was filling with purple black clouds like a bruise waiting to hurt. The winds came down louder and stronger and the birds stopped singing. The villagers buttoned their windows up and stocked their shelves. On the last day before the rain, the sun came out from behind the...

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“The Scepter of the Priest” by Ahmed Wael

The gates were wide open, thick high gates of pure gold, decorated with many elegant hieroglyphic symbols and spells that prevent the king's enemies from trying to assassinate him. Hiding behind them a very large hall, at the end of which the great throne made of pure gold settles in the middle between two statues for two giants with the head of a jackal and a human body, a huge throne that accommodates a giant, which makes the queen appear slim in size.The guards advanced inside the hall pushing a short, slim man compared to the t...

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“Will You Let Me Fly Above the Stars to Die?” by Zilla Babbitt

Someone had attached one of those human-operated rail mechanisms to the front of the engine, but it wasn’t hand-operated. There was a little engine chugging away, lifting the handles up and down, again and again, forcing the engine forward, one mile at a time. The grasses slid by, black and grey like burnt toast a bad mother made. Loey went out on the slick metal glass-enclosed engine top to chec...

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“Moments After” by Abigail Airuedomwinya

Ms. Cobyswort was eating her breakfast late one morning when her servant ran in with a paper from yesterday's grocery theft. He was breathing hard as he pushed the paper towards his mistress, hoping she would understand him sooner. But the frown that creased her forehead told him she was just as oblivious of the truth as he was the night before.He looked at the table of freshly baked bread and jam and omelet and her usual cup of coffee, which he'd served only minutes before and smiled shyly. His mistress shrugged off the interrupti...

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“White Frog” by Jennifer Stone

“Who are you supposed to be?” asked the little brown rabbit.The white creature replied, “A frog.”The rabbit smirked. “There are no such things as a white frog. White rabbits, maybe. White cows. And even white sharks. But no white frogs!”Then the frog hopped along, finding another part of nature that would respect him. He found a small flying insect that was gracefully spinning around the warm air.“Hey! Hey!” the frog yelled. The butterfly didn’t flinch. When it opened one eye, it flipped through the air ...

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“What a Lovely Irony” by Cara Mccarthy

Isn’t it ironic? Me, a comedian, a man made of jokes, in the most miserable place that you could ever possibly imagine. I stood over her casket and brushed my fingers across its polished wood. As I stared at the casket’s outside, I didn’t dare look inside. To see her pale face and flushed cheeks. I closed my eyes, t...

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“The Nameless Man” by Taryn Morlock

Very few people knew of his existence. Of those few, all but one were dead. Which is why it was such a surprise when he heard the heartbeat-quick rap on his door. Slowly, ever so slowly, the grizzled man shifted from his seated position. His joints cracked as he stood, turtle-slow, and yet the way with which he moved seemed to reflect the man he had once been, a man who could, whisper-silent, slip through the shadows. Yes, his younger self did show- reflected in a warped fun...

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“The Train (Eternity)” by Taylor Ingrassia

Green pierces the dim light of the room. A whistle cuts across the din. The scratch of words on the thin paper in your hand tells you your train departs abruptly at 3 a.m. and, as the whistle and lights have warned, this leaves about five minutes to board. You pass through the crowds gathered on the platform, dialogue in countless dialects drifting apart from the rest to meet you momentar...

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$50

Prize money

501

Submissions

Ended on 23:59 - Feb 07, 2020 EST

Won by Natalie Frank 🏆

Title: Seaglass

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