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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#63: Autumnal

It’s finally fall in the Northern Hemisphere. While the leaves are being slow to change out my window this year, the air is crisp and the pumpkin spice products are out in full force. Time to break out the sweaters!

Beyond all the colorful trappings, though, fall is by definition a season of change. So as you craft your stories this week, try to think about how the events you’re writing will change your characters' lives, whether fundamentally or just a little. After all, even a seemingly mundane afternoon can be the turning point of your entire life…

And if you want to drink some apple cider or a pumpkin spice latte while you write, more power to you!

This week's prompts

Set your story in a coffee shop that’s just introduced a new line of autumnal drinks.

Fall – 161 stories

Start your story with the line, “By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire.” (Whether this is a literal fire is up to you.)

Teens – 324 stories

Write about a character making fall decorations out of construction paper.

Kids – 45 stories

Write a story from the perspective of a bird migrating for the winter.

Winter – 128 stories

Write about two characters going apple picking.

Fall – 249 stories

Stories

“Apple of My Eye (sequel to "Reunion")” by Philip Clayberg

Submitted to Contest #63

As it got closer to mid-October, the leaves turned from green to yellow, orange, red, and pink, as if the trees were on fire. I couldn't remember another Autumn as beautiful as this one was. All too soon the leaves would all turn to brown, but until then I was going to try to enjoy every moment.My daughter heard me whistling in my bedroom as I got dressed. My tie was being difficult as I tried to tie it. But even that didn't bother me much.She came in, smiled, and said, “I haven't seen or heard you be this happy in a very long time, Pa.”“I'm...

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“Deserter” by Stafford Morgan

Submitted to Contest #63

There was a gun in his waistband. He probably shouldn't have brought it, let alone held onto it for this long. If he had any other option, he wouldn’t be here in the first place.The bus had dropped him a few miles from the orchard where he then lingered long enough for the next one to come and go. When he finally made his way down the road, he cut into the first row of apple trees and spent about an hour oscillating between turning back or advancing onto the house. If there was any doubt he was in the right place, this orchard dispelled it; ...

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“Apple picking with grandma ” by Dibsysgsvn Dibwyshv

Submitted to Contest #63

Walking on the pavement holding my grandma's hand, I smiled widely looking at the tree leaves changing their color from green to yellow, orange, red and brown shades. Feeling the morning crisp and cold air 7 year old me held my grandmas hand tightly in the hope of some warmth. She looked at me and gave me a warn smile which I returned with the same warmth. “Are you excited to go apple picking Lucas?” She asked “Yes grandma!" I said enthusiastically and she laughed at my excitement. “You know I also use to go apple picking with my...

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“Lead By A Dream!” by P. Jean

Submitted to Contest #63

(Start your story with the line, “By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire.” (Whether this is a literal fire is up to you.) ) By The time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire….but WAIT, I’m getting ahead of myself, a tale this fine needs to be told correctly! ~~~~~ The passage of time is agonizingly slow or is it so fast we cannot comprehend. That is the thing about the tunnels of time and terror. They are different for each man or woman, each creature who enters. If there was but one defin...

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“The case of the GrassYard cafe.” by Fplldg Wakdwwdg

Submitted to Contest #63

N.B: A general parody of Dr. Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes series. I'm not even close to his shoe's level but, just wanted to give it a try as a fan. In this parody, Jhonlock is equivalent to Sherlock, Sherlson is equivalent to Watson. Decided to keep Mycoft and Moriarty unchanged. The case of the GrassYard Café : By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. It's Autumn alright, the season of letting go. But in my case, it brought an end to my long wait for a vacation I wa...

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“Different” by Dhruv Srivastava

Submitted to Contest #63

With each fold into the heavy brown, orange, and red paper, a minute of Jamie Colston’s was avenged, though this narrative seemed to be trapped in her own mind. She sat on the floor of her dingy apartment, sick yellow light leering at her through disheveled drapes, making paper turkeys and maple leaves. Her skeletal frame was topped with ragged clothes, so thin her backbone showed through her shirt. However, the most troubling aspect of her appearance was her face, on which was plastered a tight, toothy smile which was painful to look at. He...

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“Something in the Air” by Kat Jahnigen

Submitted to Contest #63

Marlow and Mommy were busy. Fall was in the air, Mommy said, and they had lots to do to get ready. They’d picked all the apples off their only tree. Daddy had to hold Marlow on his shoulders to reach the highest ones. Marlow stood on the stool in the kitchen and washed them. Then Mommy had peeled them and cut the core out with all the tiny, brown seeds. Then she even let him use the sharp knife to cut them. They had divided them up into bags and put them in the freezer. Now Marlow and Mommy were cutting leaves out of construction paper to ...

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“All the Colored Leaves” by Courtney Haynes

Submitted to Contest #63

Trouble. It was a word that followed me from birth. That echoed in the halls of school. That seemed to exude from my dark black skin and the way kids would look at me like I were an enigma. A problem. Trouble. It was the inexorable weight placed on a young black girl’s shoulders by a society of expectations. A Georgetown study calls this the adultifaction of young black girls finding that “girls as young as 5 need less protection and nurturing than their white peers” which itself is linked to higher standards and harsher treatment. In a ...

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“The Promise” by Parul Srivastava

Submitted to Contest #63

“Really!? You’ll take me with you? Promise?”“Promise! We’ll leave at 3 am and be back before the break of dawn. Be ready.”Anuj was elated. Krishna had finally agreed to take him along. Now that he was 14, he too will work and bring home the bread like Krishna did. After their father died mysteriously about four years ago, Krishna’s 14-year-old shoulders were burdened with providing for the family of six including himself.Anuj was up and waiting near the horse cart. The sky was clear with little diamonds scattered all over. There was ample ti...

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“THE JOURNEY OF THE SNOWBIRDS ” by ESTHER Mwape

Submitted to Contest #63

The journey of the snowbird is the story of the winter birds by the name of Dark- eyed Junco commonly known as the snowbird. These birds migrates every year when it's winter time from their homes in Canada to the southern United States in winter, because winter is there favourite season of the year. Though the snowbirds love winter, and they have to travel every year for winter from their homes in Canada to southern part of the United States, there are numerous challenges as well dangers that they face while travelling but despite having the...

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“Goin' South” by John K Adams

Submitted to Contest #63

Finch mumbled to himself as he inventoried items for the trip. Polly touched his arm and tilted her head in a question. He said, “Cooper said to get packed. Pack light, he says. This should be a quick trip. Plan to travel light. Half-way around the world? Pack light? Spackle? Pickle? Pecked?” Polly backed away. “Peck, peck, peck. Pecking is in order, sir.” “Why don’t you take a break?” She returned to her desk. Dove leaned over and whispered to her. “Don’t be hard on him, Pol. Cooper thinks he’s king of the roost. He said to travel light b...

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“The Gift of Freedom” by B Easton

Submitted to Contest #63

Inside the golden garden, through grass green and good, two perfect figures walked, the first, a tall, slender man with skin white and soft as the dancing clouds high above. His arms stretched all the way down to the bucket he carried, no doubt for apples, but as with everything inside these walls, the bucket did not cause him strife. Beside him, walked the second figure, a woman with hair so fair and golden that even the sun seemed dim by comparison. Their smiles could be seen even from my spot hidden amongst the tree leaves as could their...

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“Spiraling South” by Elizabeth Corbitt

Submitted to Contest #63

The familiar call is starting, resounding in my head. I coo, letting the world know I hear her urging. I am not alone in this. The flock responds in kind; a rustling of feathers and voices rise to the sky. It is a comfort to know soon we will take flight, head to our other home in the south where the warmth will once again penetrate our feathers and embrace our core. For only a few more days will we get to enjoy the ample supply of soybeans and corn these fields provide. Another coo surrounds me and I respond. It is not a warning, but a than...

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“An Apple a Day” by Lily Rebecca 🐰🐾

Submitted to Contest #63

Every year, my family and my friends’ families used to go apple picking up the coast, normally toward the middle of autumn.There’s one that I remember especially well. The day has come. We’re all set and ready to go. We get in the car and make our way there. It’s my favourite time of year. It brings everyone together. Two hours later We arrive at the caravan park and park our van. I jump out of the car and look around for all my friends. My best friend arrives and parks next to our car. We run into each other’s arms and fall into fits ...

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“Withering Dreams On An Autumn's Evening” by Christopher G

Submitted to Contest #63

“By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire,” thought Kurt Lawson as he strummed his harp in an uncomfortable chair beside his grandmother Iris who lay on the cheaply built hospital bed. Not a modicum of sentience coursed through her rapidly dying body. Her own name roused irony as her irises were tinted a milky and discolored gray from their usual beam of intoxicatingly icy blue. Iris had taught Kurt to play the instrument, and he, like any perfectionist, sharpened his skills so that it would be virtually impossible to discern t...

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$50

Prize money

907

Contest entries

0

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Oct 16, 2020 EST

Won by Masha Kurbatova 🏆

Title: come to atlanta!

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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