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#283 Seasonal Twists

Don’t forget to use the hashtag #ReedsyTwist to share your stories (and potentially get featured on our social accounts)!

It’s Christmas week, and if you’re celebrating, I hope you’re surrounded by everything that brings about festive cheer: twinkling lights and decorations, catchy holiday pop songs, the aroma of family recipes passed down through generations…

The familiarity of tradition grounds us in a world that’s always on the move. But as every storyteller knows, change is what makes narratives interesting. This week, let’s shake up some cozy Christmas traditions and add a little surprise to them. What will your characters do when the unexpected takes center stage?

🥇 Winner

Can You See Me Now?

Winner of Contest #283 🏆

Being invisible is my superpower. I don’t mean that I’m a superhero who is out slaughtering villains, cape flapping in the wind as I zoom over the New York skyline. The truth is, instead, that I am a “woman of a certain age” who has suddenly morphed into invisibility.But don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a poor me story written by a middle-aged woman longing for her past. That would accomplish nothing. And I am a person who gets things done. I’m used to being the one that everyone turns to for answers, and the one who pretended I wasn’t aw...

135 likes

⭐️ Shortlisted

A Drink with Death

Jes Oakheart

Shortlisted for Contest #283 ⭐️

I was rotting in a dive bar on Christmas Eve when the goddess of death found me. Facing away from the door, I felt a wave of winter chill flush against the back of my neck when she came into the dimly lit tavern. The bartender blanched when he saw her, then wordlessly pointed a finger to himself to ask if she had come for him. “No, Gary,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Not today.” I did not look to see who had just entered The Rusty Pearl. She placed a hand on my shoulder and her skin was like ice. The cold soaked through my cardigan al...

36 likes

Figgy Pudding

Anthony Andrés

Shortlisted for Contest #283 ⭐️

You struggle to wake up on Christmas morning. You want to stay in bed, in your Christmas pajamas, covered up in several layers of blankets as if you were lasagna. You feel safe and away from the fear under the sheets. There is something about this Christmas that seems…off. Almost as if Santa was a harbinger of an upcoming mental breakdown. You blame part of your mood and current lack of energy on the fact you were up late bouncing from store to store, waiting in long lines with your fellow procrastinators, trying to purchase whatever r...

24 likes

This week's prompts

Write a story that ends with a huge twist.

Dramatic – 82 stories

Write a story about two characters who surprisingly end up spending a holiday or event together.

Short Story – 52 stories

Write a story about someone’s first Christmas after a major life change.

Short Story – 52 stories

It’s the most wonderful time of the year — except your character can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

Short Story – 37 stories

Write a story with the line “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Dramatic – 64 stories

Stories

Can You See Me Now?

Winner of Contest #283 🏆

Being invisible is my superpower. I don’t mean that I’m a superhero who is out slaughtering villains, cape flapping in the wind as I zoom over the New York skyline. The truth is, instead, that I am a “woman of a certain age” who has suddenly morphed into invisibility.But don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a poor me story written by a middle-aged woman longing for her past. That would accomplish nothing. And I am a person who gets things done. I’m used to being the one that everyone turns to for answers, and the one who pretended I wasn’t aw...

135 likes

Home for Christmas

Submitted to Contest #283

Christmas 2024Dearest Victor,I hope you know that even if you’d left me, even if you took to the skies for 17,000 kilometres and 22 hours to spread your wings away from the nest we’ve built, there’s nowhere I’d rather spend Christmas but home with you.This morning, my fingers brushed the supermarket tinsel draped around the banister and yet, there was no tickle for all I could sense was the weight of the atmosphere pummelling my exhausted lungs. My bunny slipper-donning feet dragged across the wood floor to fetch myself just another bowl of ...

57 likes

Page Turner

Mary Butler

Submitted to Contest #283

The rain in Plotford pounded on the window like a drunk ex demanding to be let in—loud, desperate, and entirely unwelcome. My office smelled like burnt coffee and socks you keep meaning to throw out but never do—a combination that could double as an interrogation tactic. A mismatched sock peeked from under my desk, accusing me of neglect, while the coffee maker sputtered in the corner, trying and failing to brew a decent pot. On my desk sat a stack of unpaid bills tall enough to deserve its own zip code. “Hardwick Investigations,” I muttere...

46 likes

I'm Dreaming of a White House Christmas

Submitted to Contest #283

Imagine the White House during Christmas 1789: George Washington and his wife sitting around a Christmas tree in the Oval Office, a newspaper artist sketching the festive scene, and Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas" over the phonograph. If you can picture this, I would say, "Wow, you have a wonderful imagination." Unfortunately, that's where this scene will have to stay—in our imaginations. That's correct. I made the whole scene up, except for Christmas, 1789, George, and Martha. The rest are complete fabrications. The first fabrication ...

38 likes

A Drink with Death

Jes Oakheart

Shortlisted for Contest #283 ⭐️

I was rotting in a dive bar on Christmas Eve when the goddess of death found me. Facing away from the door, I felt a wave of winter chill flush against the back of my neck when she came into the dimly lit tavern. The bartender blanched when he saw her, then wordlessly pointed a finger to himself to ask if she had come for him. “No, Gary,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Not today.” I did not look to see who had just entered The Rusty Pearl. She placed a hand on my shoulder and her skin was like ice. The cold soaked through my cardigan al...

36 likes

The End of the Beginning

Harland Chambers

Submitted to Contest #283

The Cheevers liked nice things. Their house was laid out with meticulous precision. Each item of furniture, timepiece, artwork, and antique collectible was presented with careful intention. Pretense was admired. They were an enviable couple.Charlotte sought things she could own like her benevolent children and her beloved husband. Her grasp was far-reaching, and her angst anchored. Theo was dutiful in appeasing her hunger. She never went without or lacked comfort. He toiled long hours to ensure her happiness. Gratefulness and appreciati...

34 likes

Spin-Cycle

Mary Bendickson

Submitted to Contest #283

Ridin’ around in my automobile. Tryin’ not to fall asleep at the wheel. Round and round and round I go. Where I’ll land nobody knows.Caught in a spin cycle. Spinning my wheels. Never any end in sight. Think I’m getting ahead then some guy on a steel horse passes me by. Heck, the rate I’m going even the guy pushing the wheelbarrow is catching up to me. Endless, I’m tellin’ ya. Hopeless. I put in my paces, smile at the faceless faces hiding under haute hats all so I can chase that elusive money bag, pick up my salary and get on the move again....

30 likes

Christmas Tree

Korinne H.

Submitted to Contest #283

The day I arrive home from college, my family does not come to the door. I find them in the kitchen. Rising quickly, my mom fumbles an apology. “Oh, honey! I wasn’t sure when you’d get here.” I told her, twice, but that's ok. She hugs me and asks about the trip. “Good,” I smile, “no traffic.” My dad is already out the door, popping the trunk. He’s more of a doer than a talker, that's ok. There is no sign of my little brother in the kitchen. There is no sign of him anywhere, actually. That’s ok. Eventually, they trickle to other par...

27 likes

The Last Caroler

Jim LaFleur

Submitted to Contest #283

Thomas Green shuffled through the snow-laden streets on Christmas Eve, his weathered hands clutching a worn songbook. Each gust of wind seemed to whisper memories of better days, when his voice rang strong and clear through these very streets. Now, at seventy-eight, his once-resonant baritone had faded to a trembling whisper, but his determination to continue his decades-long tradition of caroling remained unshaken. The town had changed. Where festive lights once turned night into day, darkness now reigned. Thomas adjusted his threadbare sca...

27 likes

Unforgettable

Michelle Oliver

Submitted to Contest #283

“‘Tis the season to be jolly…”The carolers rang out their joyful refrain, fa, la, la, la, la-ing with enthusiasm, as Mary wandered slowly through the softly swirling snow-flakes that drifted into her thick, rich, hot chocolate. The mug was bright purple and contrasted oddly with the picture perfect Christmas card environment, so she wrapped her mitten covered fingers further around the cup to disguise the imperfection.Three children were building snowman, scooping piles of fluffy snow that gathered beneath the overhanging eaves of the nearby...

26 likes

The cemeteries keeper.

Submitted to Contest #283

There once was a man and he used to be known as the cemetery's keeper. He would wash the stones and make the graves intact with new paint jobs and flowers. He would be seen sitting down talking to the stones. While he ate his lunch it was a different stone each day. Everybody thought he was creepy. He wore black every day like he was about to attend a funeral. A full suit and tie. Even in the summer. He would watch everyone from a far that went passed. Especially those who came in. He would hide near the trees and light up a cigarette....

26 likes

Lies

John Rutherford

Submitted to Contest #283

CaseThe Applicant is a single woman in her 30’s. A reasonably successful writer of books and collection of poems. Well educated, and fluent in speaking both English and Chinese languages. A winner of numerous awards for her writing. She comes from an unusual mixed cultural and social background and has further enhanced those cultural experiences with travel and living in diverse countries and social environments for a woman of such a tender age.The combination of her growing up and travel experiences have enriched her writing. She gained her...

24 likes

Dropping the Ball

Story Time

Submitted to Contest #283

I told them that I’d had enough. I am all done being trapped inside a ball as it plummets to the ground all to celebrate some mindless construction of time. I understand the value of ritual. I get the nature of tradition. My family has been involved in New Year’s Eve since the very first celebration. The Windells are, in some ways, the First Family of New Year’s Eve. We were given the burden of sacrificing a little bit of ourselves every year, because when the calendar as we know it was created, we were the ones who thought to make a big dea...

24 likes

Figgy Pudding

Anthony Andrés

Shortlisted for Contest #283 ⭐️

You struggle to wake up on Christmas morning. You want to stay in bed, in your Christmas pajamas, covered up in several layers of blankets as if you were lasagna. You feel safe and away from the fear under the sheets. There is something about this Christmas that seems…off. Almost as if Santa was a harbinger of an upcoming mental breakdown. You blame part of your mood and current lack of energy on the fact you were up late bouncing from store to store, waiting in long lines with your fellow procrastinators, trying to purchase whatever r...

24 likes

The Spirits Inside The Walls

Submitted to Contest #283

Like the spirit, it rises: the flesh and breath of bricks and mortar. You smell it when it rains, when the room is lit up yellow and the world outside is grey but full of bright umbrellas. Or when it lingers autumnal like logs in dampened woods speckled gold upon troweled earth. Likewise in spring when the grass is freshly mown, April-showered, refreshed. But on days like today, you smell it too. And mild as it was before the sky darkened over this Christmas, it hits you pure, crisp and clear as the season itself.You step from your old child...

21 likes

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Contest #284

This contest has ended. Thank you for your submissions.

$250

Prize money

287

Entries

120

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jan 03, 2025 EST

Won by Maisie Sutton 🏆

Title: Can You See Me Now?

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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