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#98 Origin Stories

Every year, on the fifth day of the lunisolar calendar’s fifth month (which happens to be this Monday!), the Dragon Boat Festival commences with gusto all across China. Within three days of celebration, people attend dragon boat races (as expected), eat sticky rice dumplings (zongzi), and hang aromatic plants around the house to ward off evil spirits.

The origins of the festival are obscure: some say it commemorates the death of a poetic and patriotic official who was exiled from the ancient Chu state. Others say it celebrates a filial daughter who lost her life searching for her father, who fell in the river during the organization of a boat race. While father and daughter were reunited in death, their misfortune connects to yet another alternative origin story for the festival: the fifth day of the fifth month was considered the unluckiest day of the year, and the festivities are carried out to keep this bad energy at bay.

Taking inspiration from these fascinating stories, and from their multiplicity, I present to you the prompts for this week! Don’t worry if you’re not familiar with the festival itself: since the tales behind this occasion are so diverse, there’s something for everyone.

🥇 Winner

Blessed Home

Mary Sheehan

Winner of Contest #98 🏆

I am spinning slowly in my tank, suspended in doped-up air, buoyant, bobbing. Piano music (Beethoven?) plays softly in the background. My eyes are closed, but if I opened them, I would see only pale yellow light enclosing me in a warm glow.I like the piano music. It makes me feel calm. That, alongside the sedation. The Facility keeps mine light, because I prefer it that way, and because I am well-behaved. The Facility knows my ways, knows I don’t misbehave. I have been here for a long time now. It must be years, though there is no sense of t...

367 likes

206 comments 206

⭐️ Shortlisted

there’s plenty of fish in the graveyard; there's plenty of ghosts in the sea

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

The Winterlands at night are freezing at best and lethal at worst, so of course they’re making Leif go on a Quest during the second sort, when half of his village’s population have beards beset by icicles and the other half are nursing a frostbitten toe in front of a blazing bonfire.“You bear the gift of the Walrus Belly,” reassures Torsten as he heaves at the oars, threading their rickety little boat through frigid saltwater. By the amber luminescence of a lantern powered by whale blubber, Leif watches his companion’s breath mist into the n...

86 likes

A Life of Regrets, Passed Down

Otis Hixon

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

I watched my son from the back of the boat. He looked so much older up there, behind a wheel. The others were talking, their few voices mixing with the sloshing of the current against the hull, and I let their words beat riddled rhythms into my ears. The driver, my son, gently nudged the wheel, expertly following the turn. His large hand was splayed, long lines erupting, and hardy veins shoot like roots through fertile dirt. We passed evenly between the flooded green banks. Crickets and assorted birds symphonize, growing the chorus of our vo...

39 likes

terminus

Katie Evans

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

Danny grins right into the sun and revs the engine, nudging the speedometer past eighty. There’s not a sign of life for as far as he can see, until the ochre of the desert bleeds into the heat haze on the horizon. Just the endless sameness of rocks and dust and melting tarmac. It really makes the man beside him, tux rumpled and disheveled, hair a windswept mess, all the more interesting. He laughs, draping one wrist over the wheel and turning to look at him. “Y’know, I haven’t seen a groom look so damn miserable since my Uncle Jimmy marri...

38 likes

Rain

Rebecca Weinert

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

TW: trauma, abuseThe smell of freshly ground coffee surrounds me. I am sitting at the table in the corner right next to the door, breathing in the fresh morning air, the scent of summer rain on cobblestones. I listen to the sound of the seagulls, a sound so new to me but so easy to get used to. The cup between my palms is still hot and I let my fingertips trace the rim, waiting for the coffee to cool so I can drink it.You never liked coffee. Maybe that’s why I picked it. The bitter taste still stings but I’m slowly getting used to it.The sou...

37 likes

Barges

Bob E

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

The clouds tell stories. The clouds tell the past. I can see it all now. Lying on my back, barely conscious as we move forwards, cutting through hidden tributaries. Some of these we made ourselves. They afford camouflage, which gives us surprise, which gives us advantage. Shadows pass across my face. Occasionally, the sun intrudes. Such is its way. I swat my arm and it leaves me be. Another gnat. I watch the sky pass above. The clouds tell the future. And why not? The old man says we’re river folk. That’s the phrase he uses. I don’t know...

29 likes

This week's prompts

Write about a family with a long-standing tradition, whose members all have conflicting origin stories for it.

Thanksgiving – 58 stories

Start your story with a character having a premonition, but no one believes them.

Dark – 147 stories

Write about someone who’s desperately trying to change their luck.

Teens – 100 stories

Set your story on (or in) a winding river.

Middle School – 122 stories

Write a story involving a character who cannot return home.

Angst – 320 stories

Stories

Blessed Home

Mary Sheehan

Winner of Contest #98 🏆

I am spinning slowly in my tank, suspended in doped-up air, buoyant, bobbing. Piano music (Beethoven?) plays softly in the background. My eyes are closed, but if I opened them, I would see only pale yellow light enclosing me in a warm glow.I like the piano music. It makes me feel calm. That, alongside the sedation. The Facility keeps mine light, because I prefer it that way, and because I am well-behaved. The Facility knows my ways, knows I don’t misbehave. I have been here for a long time now. It must be years, though there is no sense of t...

367 likes

206 comments 206

WOMB

Submitted to Contest #98

The dumb spiders were crying in a dilapidated house. Suddenly, the raindrops with the heavy wind were alike fighting with the earth. A six-month pregnant woman was fighting for survival like the deer which was caught by the four hunters. The new saying resuscitated in her life... “Having a pregnant woman for lust is a simple thing when the giants rape the four years child". The chaste woman was approaching death by the four youngsters who were sunk in the drugs. ‘Arun, Enough let’s let her, she can bear no more.’ ‘Joseph, the ...

336 likes

My Life Sucks

Stevie B

Submitted to Contest #98

Vampires are not always asleep in their coffins during the daytime. Take me for instance. Before becoming one of the many of the legion of undead, I’d suffered during much of my life from insomnia; tossing and turning my way through sleepless nights, usually losing consciousness as the sun was coming up, and rolling out of my former bed feeling like death warmed over most mornings to do things I had little to no interest in. My life sucked! Then I became a vampire. “Well how did that happen?” most would ask. And I, Charlie Althea, would re...

103 likes

Life in Passing

Lynn Penny

Submitted to Contest #98

“Is that me?” The Latina woman whispered with a hand covering her mouth as she pointed at the splattered mess of blood and flesh on the cement that was once a cyclist crossing the street at a crosswalk. Vera was used to seeing souls freak out at the sights of their own gruesome corpses, but that didn’t make it any easier.“I’m so terribly sorry,” Vera’s novice—Sam—croaked out. Vera recognized the face of sheer despair that was painted on their face. Sam being one of the newest recruits, facing their first violent death, Vera expected nothing ...

95 likes

there’s plenty of fish in the graveyard; there's plenty of ghosts in the sea

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

The Winterlands at night are freezing at best and lethal at worst, so of course they’re making Leif go on a Quest during the second sort, when half of his village’s population have beards beset by icicles and the other half are nursing a frostbitten toe in front of a blazing bonfire.“You bear the gift of the Walrus Belly,” reassures Torsten as he heaves at the oars, threading their rickety little boat through frigid saltwater. By the amber luminescence of a lantern powered by whale blubber, Leif watches his companion’s breath mist into the n...

86 likes

A Clearer Vision

【ↇ𝔸𝕂𝕆⇝𝔹𝔼𝔸ℝ 】

Submitted to Contest #98

AN: I actually wrote this a few months back for a school project just before I joined Reedsy. Surprisingly I got an award for this, but this is also a kinda throwback to before Reedsy :) I’ve always liked to be by myself. I have always chosen the comfort of solitude, rather than the chaos of company. I can’t be alone now, constantly surrounded by people, who just look at me, sadly, then move on. Rarely, very rarely someone will stop and talk. I can’t say I like the talking that much, but I do like the clink of the money. A com...

84 likes

One can always Drown beneath the Past

Kathleen `Woods

Submitted to Contest #98

People strolled through the town, quiet and peaceful in a manner jarring to him and his once chaotic life, he watched them anyway, halfway waiting to spot a Revenant amongst them. Sleep wasn’t an easy task for Laz, it never had been, under the Bunker’s artifice, and it hadn’t changed after the flood. So he watched his neighbors, as they took to their menial tasks. Most didn’t take their limited time to notice him, in the once vacant house his benefactor’s had been allotted. But they were always nervous when they did. He was new of co...

64 likes

Running Down A Dream

PJ Aitken

Submitted to Contest #98

His eyes exploded open to then scrunch up once more as soon as the harsh sunlight hit them. Mikey had had one of those dreams again but this felt more real than usual. He wracked his brain trying to remember every detail before it faded away. The lake. Sound of a boat’s engine. Voices. His best friend Warren was there. A close up of the T-shirt they bought during a group trip to the Mall last week. A huge explosion. A time – 9.15am. Then Mikey woke up… Laying deathly still in bed wi...

61 likes

Humanity

Corbin Sage

Submitted to Contest #98

He found her slumped against the wall in the living room, clutching her arm and surrounded by the monsters she had slain. She looked up when she saw him, and a brief smile touched her lips before a wince took it away. “Are you okay?” He asked, and he could barely hear her response over the chorus of voices in his head. Your fault Your fault Your fault “I would’ve come out of the house like we planned if I was fine.” She said and adjusted her position. Her teeth clamped together and her eyes shut tight as a spasm of pain hit her, ...

50 likes

cathedral

R E

Submitted to Contest #98

Snap! My eyes widened, globes of murky brown fear fixating back on the path I had come from, ears searching for a sign of movement aside from the faint chatter of wildlife, the chirp of a lonesome, passing bird. I panted, heart racing as I waited but all I could hear was my own ragged breathing consumed with dread and unease. I didn’t have the luxury of time. I had to keep moving. Desperately trying to muffle my whimpers of trepidation, I moved through the forest quick and low, bare feet flying over logs, skidding over gravel. The bott...

47 likes

There Will Always Be More Fish in the Sea

Jubilee Forbess

Submitted to Contest #98

Somedays, she really regretted the tail. It was shimmering and blue and honestly very magical, but it was also heavy, like the disappointed looks her parents gave her when they realized what she had done. To them, it seemed she had thrown away almost three whole years of a good, solid college education to go chase out her wildest dream, one she had had since she was a tiny girl, still wrapped up in her mermaid blanket and hopping around the first floor of her family’s home. To her parents, it seemed she had left their dream of a stable futur...

46 likes

Borne From Blood

Yolanda Wu

Submitted to Contest #98

Trigger warning: Mention of rape, suicide and abortion Ruilan never thought she would ever reach a point in her life where she was meditating on a river. It was very cultivator-like of her. Surrounded by the fresh fragrance of bamboo leaves, and the gentle lapping of the river, she was beginning to understand why her parents – the great leaders of the Jia Sect of Yunhe – always meditated; it was good for the qi. “Lan’yi!” She had been so deep in her meditation that such a voice was enough to startle the rickety boat into almost tipping i...

41 likes

A Life of Regrets, Passed Down

Otis Hixon

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

I watched my son from the back of the boat. He looked so much older up there, behind a wheel. The others were talking, their few voices mixing with the sloshing of the current against the hull, and I let their words beat riddled rhythms into my ears. The driver, my son, gently nudged the wheel, expertly following the turn. His large hand was splayed, long lines erupting, and hardy veins shoot like roots through fertile dirt. We passed evenly between the flooded green banks. Crickets and assorted birds symphonize, growing the chorus of our vo...

39 likes

A Lone Traveler

Caroline Fonteno

Submitted to Contest #98

15 year old Kendall Grey walked through the woods. Kendall emerged into a small town. She started walking through the town. Then she realized this was her old home. The home she had come to know so well. She thought she smelled smoke but didn’t know where it was coming from. As she was walking she walked past the town square and suddenly she saw it. The reason that she would never, could never return home. 7 years ago Kendall had been at a party with her parents. Kendall was not the type to follow rules so when her parents told her not...

39 likes

terminus

Katie Evans

Shortlisted for Contest #98 ⭐️

Danny grins right into the sun and revs the engine, nudging the speedometer past eighty. There’s not a sign of life for as far as he can see, until the ochre of the desert bleeds into the heat haze on the horizon. Just the endless sameness of rocks and dust and melting tarmac. It really makes the man beside him, tux rumpled and disheveled, hair a windswept mess, all the more interesting. He laughs, draping one wrist over the wheel and turning to look at him. “Y’know, I haven’t seen a groom look so damn miserable since my Uncle Jimmy marri...

38 likes

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Contest #98

This contest has ended. Thank you for your submissions.

$50

Prize money

750

Entries

0

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Jun 18, 2021 EST

Won by Mary Sheehan 🏆

Title: Blessed Home

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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