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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#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.

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 – 101 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

“The Journey” by Thom With An H

Submitted to Contest #98

Jasper felt a little disoriented. Although he was laying down and his eyes were closed, for the life of him he couldn’t remember going to sleep. There was a gentle, calming rocking that felt nothing like any bed he'd ever slept in. He was also so completely comfortable that he almost didn’t want to open his eyes.Curiosity got the better of him. The first thing he noticed, after his eyes had adjusted to the unexpected sunlight, was the unfamiliarity of his surroundings. Both to his left and right were the smooth curved wooden ...

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“Rain” by 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...

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“broken branches of the family tree” by H L McQuaid

Submitted to Contest #98

Luca blows out a long breath, relaxes his shoulders and leans against the bench's backrest as the ferry pulls away from the Everett City pier. Astrid sits next to him, her curly red hair whipping across a freckled face, her nose buried in a tattered copy of The Peanut Butter Falcon. In front of them, Bobby, his brown hands gripping the side of the boat as the waves rock the deck. He insisted on wearing a life jacket, even after Luca told him that only kids had to put them on. The straps Luca had to loosen to fit over Bobby's belly flap in th...

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“Painted Over” by A.Dot Ram

Submitted to Contest #98

They’ve made some questionable design choices. Not that Mom didn’t in her day. I smile as I look through Mr. and Mrs. Merkle, peering years into my past: the wood paneling on the walls, the blue-checkered wallpaper, the pink fixtures to match the roses in the guest bathroom. That’s all gone now, almost twenty years later. The walls are painted a shade of beige that’s so inoffensive it offends me. The Merkles have whitewashed the mottled oak kitchen cabinets and the red bricks around the fireplace. Just as well. Both oak and exposed bric...

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“The Rapids” by ☠️฿ⱤɆ₵₭ł₦ ₦ØⱤ₮ⱧⱤɄ₱😎

Submitted to Contest #98

“I can’t wait to go tubing in the river today!” I said to my friend, Julia. “I know! I’m super excited!” She said back to me. I hated waiting so long in the car, but we finally got to the place after a long 3 hour drive. I loved going tubing because I got to feel the water on my arms and legs. I have loved being in the water since I was 2. I learned to swim when I was one and a half years old. We went down to the river with our tubes and our wet bags for food,water, and phones. When we got in it felt nice an...

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“My Lucky Day” by Kathleen Fine

Submitted to Contest #98

“4 23 24 35 54 Power Ball 13,” I tell the overweight cashier behind the smeared plexiglass. My hands begin to shake as I get out the wallet from my purse and spy some mini bottles of Jack Daniels in the neat little basket sitting next to the credit card machine. My mouth begins to water. “And two of these,” I say as I push the bottles towards the cashier before my subconscious can talk me out of it. The cashier glances up at me, raising an eyebrow. “I.D.” he says. I reach into my wallet, pull out my driver’s license, and slide it...

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“On the Failure of Humans” by Pippin Took

Submitted to Contest #98

Maydon is a beautiful place, Faye thought. It’s paradise. Maydon, the smallish island Faye lived in, was gorgeous. It was full of lush, emerald jungle trees, beautiful fog in the mornings. Red, gold, pink, and blue sunsets painted the skies every night. The golden sands were soft on your feet when you walked, as Faye did now. Brightly colored flowers peeked out from the undergrowth, and the animals were elusive and not at all dangerous. The years passed by slowly here for Faye, locked away from the world. She had never seen another...

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“Florence and the Machines” by Kathleen Fine

Submitted to Contest #98

Florence can sense something bad is going to happen as soon as she wakes up. She rises from her bed and peers out of the bedroom window of her assisted living community, Chestnut View. She lives in the Striped Bass apartment whose one-bedroom floorplan has a smaller bedroom and larger living room. She had picked this apartment out seven years ago when she moved into the community. There were five floor plans to choose from, Striped Bass, Hickory Shad, Spotted Seatrout, Blue Ridge Sculpin, and White Marlin; all different names of fish found i...

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“Consequences” by BRoOkE HAs A COwBoY HAt

Submitted to Contest #98

Author's Note: This is the beginning of a maybe-novel that I am writing. If it does not turn into a novel, it will at least be a very long story, and I may share the rest of it if I ever finish. Be completely honest about what you think of it! :D Also, this is just my rough draft. 0% revised/edited.Fight“Get off of me, freak!” Desdemona screeched.“You get off of me first, dummy!” Keres screamed back.The two threw punches. Des hit Keres right in the nose, and it began to bleed. Keres narrowed his eyes at his twin before bringing his leg up an...

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“Lucky Charms” by Greg Gillis

Submitted to Contest #98

Harold Killarney grew up in a shady part of town where thieves roamed the night, and the police were as crooked as the politicians. Harold’s father could not keep a steady job, and his mother tried to make ends meet by washing clothes for other families in the neighbourhood while taking care of Harold and his two younger siblings, Jesse, and Dorothy, (Dot for short). &nb...

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“A way to home” by Akshita Arora

Submitted to Contest #98

' you have to begin from somewhere' a reminder was written on my work desk.So that's why I agreed to meet mrinali a journalism student and a never met friend . we only knew that we just existed ,through social media, before all that happened. She wants to make a documentary on people affected by recent delhi riots.It was a day in a month of October a festive season in India . Everyone's calenders were filled with red marks but mine with appointment.The whole society was filled with scents of different cuisines and every house was decorated w...

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“Barges” by 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...

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“A PICTURE GOES MISSING ...” by Sudhir Menon

Submitted to Contest #98

As she stepped out of Brian’s large station wagon, the frail old lady cautioned him once again, “Beware of the house in which you intend to stay. It is not safe.” Then, thanking Brian and Susan for the ride, she bade them goodbye and soon was gone in one of the alleys that lined the borough. Brian and Susan stood transfixed for a moment as they saw her depart; then they were again on their way to their new home about a couple of Km away.It had been an hour-long drive through heavy traffic in central London, obviously because of the week-end ...

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“Rainfall” by Samuel Bowen

Submitted to Contest #98

Trigger Warning: Contemplation of Suicide. (And also swearing) The night air chilled my skin. The downpour forced the trench coat to wrap around me like the cold hands of death grasping at my soul. Gusts of wind spat rain at my face in periodic breaths. The wind’s exhales dared to snatch my fedora off my head. I checked my holster one more time and twisted relief washed over me as I found the pistol safe next to my chest. A single bullet was loaded. “They may have my badge, but not my gun.” The words sounded weak coming from my old lungs....

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“Pancakes” by Melissa Condon

Submitted to Contest #98

“Boys!” Matt called up the stairs. “Pancakes are ready!” Five young men came down the stairs in a cacophony of clattering feet and raucous voices. Talking, pushing, shoving, and jesting, they all managed to find their seats at the well-worn farmhouse table without incident. When they were settled, Matt, clad in an apron that had been his mother’s, carried over a platter piled high with steaming, golden-brown pancakes and set it in the middle of the table. Leroy’s hand shot out to grab one of the cakes, but Vincent slapped it away. ...

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$50

Prize money

751

Contest 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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