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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#288: A Perfect Storm

Whenever I look out my window these days, it always seems like the weather won’t get any better. Blustery winds, heavy rain, thick fog, the occasional snowfall… When the temperature has dropped this low, the last thing I want to do is step into the freezing outdoors. But during the moments when I can stay home and wrap myself up in a warm, thick blanket, there’s nothing better than reading a book or working on a story as the sound of rain keeps me company… 


This week’s prompts are inspired by chilly weather. Whether it’s the haunting stillness of a snowy evening, the whisper of wind through ancient willows, or the gentle pitter-patter of perpetual rainfall, let the cold seep into your writing, and see where it takes you.

This week's prompts

Start or end your story with a breeze brushing against someone’s skin.

Short Story – 70 stories

Set your story during — or just before — a storm.

Dramatic – 144 stories

Write a story where the weather mirrors a character’s emotions.

Dramatic – 61 stories

Start or end your story with someone standing in the rain.

Dramatic – 93 stories

Set your story in a place where the weather never changes.

Short Story – 48 stories

Stories

“Vivienne” by Danielle LeBlanc

Submitted to Contest #288

Warning: contains themes of miscarriageThe summer was proving to be an exceptionally hot one; a rare occurrence for this small, coastal community in Nova Scotia. The refreshing sea breeze had been stunted by the sun’s dead weight for a few weeks. Vivienne had been dragging around this heaviness for a while, too, unsure who carried more pressure—the air or her.Vivienne had worked all day at the flower shop, assembling the most cheery and vibrant bundles of sunflowers and pastel peonies. An uplifting symphony of floral scents surrounded her, y...

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“"Code Green! Code Gray!"” by Keith Menendez

Submitted to Contest #288

“Code Green! Code Grey! All staff and security. Code Green! Code Grey!”This announcement blared and repeated throughout the interior and exterior speakers of the Palatial Estates Psychiatric Hospital. The nurses, security, doctors, and staff secured their areas and outside doors. They paired with their designated partners to make a room by room search for the missing and hostile patient.“Did they say who it was?” A short rotund CNA, with thick glasses, asked while walking the halls with a colleague.  She wore her hair in a curly bun and...

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“Audelia in August” by Emmy Montag

Submitted to Contest #288

The August sun felt warm on Audelia’s skin as she laid comfortably on his pontoon. The river waves rocked the boat gently, peacefully, while a  90’s pop playlist streamed from the speakers. At the other end of the boat, James recast his line and took a sip of his beer. Audelia looked at him and smiled. He caught her eye and began dancing to the music making her laugh. He put down his rod, and moved toward her. She sat up, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. Then, nose to nose, he looked into her eyes and whispered,...

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“Unsaid” by Imogen Bird

Submitted to Contest #288

"For the last time Annie, it's not us! It's one of these other cars." Annie looked around the road, four lanes of traffic, plenty of other vehicles speeding along the route alongside them. Every driver's foot to the floor, just like her husband's was. Spray glittered past headlights, kicked up by tyres sliding over the slick road, threatening a loss of control with any slight adjustment on steering wheels. Annie caught the eye of a woman driving a battered looking red Ford speeding past their car. An accusatory glint in her eye. Her passenge...

6 comments 6
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“Besotted, Bespotted ” by Anastasios Repousi

Submitted to Contest #288

Let’s say in a delightful twist of fate something should lather my Great Red Spot with some benzoyl peroxide. Say every one of the estimated 115 billion people who have ever lived on the sole habitable planet in this solar system has had their face occupied by a great red spot at least once (on wedding days, job interviews, that sort of thing). Or during... Perfect Planetary Alignment!! Which is today. Endlessly, I watch passing asteroids, pockmarked, but these are friable. I see all 95 of my orbiting moons don crescents to conceal thei...

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“Lost In Panama” by Maisie Sutton

Submitted to Contest #288

Trigger warning: references to suspected domestic violence (no specific details) The wind shifted, carrying punishing sheets of rain that sent the pendant lights crashing into each other. The palm trees swayed in the distance as a dull roar signaled the storm’s arrival. There was a collective gasp, turning to laughter, as we all were instantly drenched by the surprisingly warm rain. Moments earlier, we had been sitting around the mahogany bar under a thatched roof, sharing shots and conversation. Our group had the shared fortune of discover...

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“Storm Signs” by Elizabeth Rich

Submitted to Contest #288

The flies were flying lower, and the deer flies were flying lower, too. And they were biting. The air was heavy with humidity portending some serious weather. I always loved it in the hours before a storm. The silver maple leaves rustled in the wind enough to see their silvery undersides. Once the silver made its appearance, it was only a matter of time before the thunder, lightning, maybe straight line winds, would kick into gear. The damned flies. Unlike mosquitoes, flies' bites didn't itch--they just hurt. We sold our house and moved in w...

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“The Boatman” by Andrew Robertson

Submitted to Contest #288

The Boatman A dawn haze hung low over the Hooghly River, shrouding the lush countryside in a blanket of surreal calm. The imposing river, one of many Ganges tributaries, wove across the lowlands and flowed serenely toward the Bay of Bengal. A sonorous voice drifted across the water as a boatman, concealed within the morning mist, sang in Bhatiyali style. His song was one of devotion, love, or possibly loneliness, as he leisurely drifted downstream. On the bank of the river a man waited, scanning for the boatman. He fidgeted impatiently and ...

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“Eye of the Storm” by Marilyn Q

Submitted to Contest #288

Introduction: The Unyielding Storm Windridge always seemed excessively quiet—a town that appeared to be holding its breath in trepidation. Its cliffs, sharp and ominous, loomed like ancient sentinels over the churning sea, their secrets buried deep within. However, when the storms unleashed their wrath, an energy permeated the air that felt almost sentient. The locals locked themselves inside, barricaded against the howling winds and tumultuous waters. They pretended it was merely another storm, but Sarah Morris understood better. She could...

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“Void” by E. E. Miles

Submitted to Contest #288

Eliane Ishaan did not adhere to the laws of science, and because her parents, Morine and Isaac, lived by those laws, she was expected to conform to them as best she could. When Eliane was scared, sudden bursts of wind appeared; when she was sad, clouds formed, and rain began drizzling down.Morine and Isaac, though they loved their daughter dearly, were also afraid for her. They taught Eliane how to live life without feeling anything, and by the age of thirteen, not feeling anything became easy. Eliane could stub her toe and wouldn’t feel pai...

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“Lost Cargo” by Tom Taggart

Submitted to Contest #288

Three AM and I was sweating like a feral hog in a sauna. Kansas in August can be like another day in the bowels of hell, except in hell the help is nicer, and the head honcho has some style. You won’t see any three hundred-pound dipshits wearing dirty overalls strolling the flaming streets of purgatory. I was somewhere over the Oklahoma-Kansas border sitting at a window table in Aunt Daisy’s Café. The dusty Formica table had one leg propped up by what looked like a petrified muskrat. Aunt Daisy smelled of diesel and piss. At least ...

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“Tilting at Wind Farms” by Jo Freitag

Submitted to Contest #288

The climate must be perfect all the yearWell, that might be true of Camelot, but it was definitely not true of Cloudbank Cabin, in The Land of Lost Plot. Little Plump Jo, the current Artisan in Residence in Malory Tennyson’s Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies, was sweltering in the first heat wave of the summer. The small ceiling fan was merely pushing the hot air around the room. Even the flies on the windowsill were panting and fanning themselves.Today Little Plump Jo intended to continue working on The Shadow of the Many Mooded Mounta...

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“Godspeed” by CRX SSXS

Submitted to Contest #288

TW: Substance Abuse, Violence, Mental Health, Some Language____________________Vermont, 1997.The rain pelted against the narrow overhang of the motel, its steady rhythm broken only by the occasional clap of thunder in the distance. Chris stood under the faded light, the sharp sting of a cigarette on his lips, and a million thoughts racing through his mind. The parking lot before him was empty, the asphalt glistening with water, reflecting the dull neon of the motel sign. He had been standing there for what felt like hours, eyes darting aroun...

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“No Matter What” by Susy G-B

Submitted to Contest #288

My sweaty palms tremble as I unfold my speech one last time and internally recite the opening words. The paper is yellowed and brown at the creased seams, stained with coffee and salty teardrops. After all this time, I’m finally ready. Sally is standing with her small group of friends outside the science block, leaning against the red bricks with the sole of her right shoe pressed against it, her knee bent. She’s so effortlessly confident, showing her friends her new manicure, squealing about how perfectly the colour will match her prom dres...

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“The Rain in Vulane” by Cajek Veilwinter

Submitted to Contest #288

The rain in Vulane never stops,Dripping down in silver drops.It hums on rooftops, taps on glass,And whispers lore as it falls past. Even in the ancient days, the place that was now known as Vulane had been cursed - or enchanted - with continual rainfall. In the deepest, subterranean parts of the aqueduct there were cave scrawlings of creatures in the rain, scurrying for shelter or hunting large game. The environment made it perfect for stone fruits, grapes, large produce, and rice. Grain was a little harder to come by, but Vulane - in i...

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$250

Prize money

416

Contest entries

164

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Feb 07, 2025 EST

Won by Christina Marie 🏆

Title: Motherhood

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 | Big Blue Hand | 2024-11

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