Start your story with a character struggling to remember the date, because every day is like the last one.

Posted in Dark on Oct 25, 2022

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✍️ 177 stories

“Wine Down Wednesday, Maybe?” by Julie Roten

Submitted to Contest #84

"Wine Down Wednesday 1/2 off Red Blends" written in bright red still shown with a sparkle on the window of the bar and grille. She had just painted it the week before everything changed. Ellie was so excited to have her idea finally being used, 1/2 price wine was bringing in more business on what was normally a slow night. She took her time painting those words on the old windows of the store front. The old building on main street had been many things during its years of being alive. That old thick glass still held some reminisce of those ti...

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“My reason for Time” by Kien Vargas

Submitted to Contest #84

My sun, I want to apologise for leaving you so soon. I'm not sure what day it is but hope that this letter finds you soon and we'll. I hurt you. I left with no notice and left you alone in that little apartment of ours. If your getting this letter I want you to know I love you and our unborn child. I left so hastily because if I had to see the tears in your eyes my resolve would crumble. I joined this war because I'm a selfish man, I can't bring myself to care about anyone but you and our little one. I have to fight because I need to know th...

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“entropy.” by Kaitlyn Gress

Submitted to Contest #84

Something the tree could never understand was why humanity so fiercely demanded immortality. They seemed so afraid of change, and would constantly lament the ages of old; things were better then, things were brighter then. People would move in and out of the surrounding houses constantly. Seasons blurred together, spring to summer to fall to winter to spring to summer to fall . . . Each building, held up by a decapitated sibling, had a stoic and unchanging exterior and an interior constantly ebbing and flowing with the memory of a thousand...

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“the sixth extinction ” by Alexandra Michael

Submitted to Contest #84

January 1999, morning, abandoned mall She was struggling to remember the date, because every day is like the last one. Wake up, check on Vicky, look for any signs of life, eat canned peaches, and realize that when death takes your hand, they won. Friday, Sept 24 1997 6:34 am, home “All this bull news” mother said frustrated, after turning off the TV. “What do you mean ma?” Ally was confused. Her mom usually is pretty calm but now she's getting frustrated because...

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“Survivor” by Eva Parker

Submitted to Contest #84

What day is it? What month is it? How long have I been here? Where is here? Where am I? Who are they? Do they mean to kill me? What have I done wrong? I don't want to die. Please. I don't want to die. Soon it'll be my turn. Soon it'll be my time to go to the Death Room. No, I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I'm still young. There's still hope. Please, I don't want to die. Help me, I don't want to die. I want to go home. Please take me home. What did I do? I don't want to die... 8:00am Wake Up The alarm blared snapping me awake. I s...

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“Tomorrow's yesterday” by Zsófia Meszlényi

Submitted to Contest #84

It was like that every other day. My alarm clock didn't sound yet, I woke up on my own. Sunlight filtered through the window and enveloped my bed in golden light. Now, exceptionally, I didn’t mind not making the shutter yet. I didn’t really feel like getting up, so I just spun until I tangled in the blanket. As I tried to get out of the choking embrace of the striped bedding, I rolled off the bed and hopped big on the floor. I gathered all my strength, stood up, shook myself as an alarm clock, scratched my neck, and stood helplessly over my ...

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“Double Windsor” by Mike Garrigan

Submitted to Contest #84

Whenever I wear a Double Windsor knot, the tie tails run embarrassingly short. I hide the tiny tails inside the safety of my vest so no one else can see them. The gargantuan knot, however, that’s a big dumb flashing advertisement: THE GENTLEMAN ENTERING THE ROOM IS VERY IMPORTANT. God forbid I bend over and pick up a pencil or paperclip off the floor—the tails could pop out from under my vest and everyone would think that I’m a clown rather than a lawyer. What day is it anyway? Is it Thursday? I wear my brown tie on Thursdays...

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“Jasper” by Allison Nielsen

Submitted to Contest #84

Flora woke up exhausted, as usual. She dragged herself out of her bed, and to the bathroom. She turned on the tap, splashing some water on her face. She felt the cool liquid drip down her neck, and sighed. Drying her face with a towel, she glanced up into the mirror, and quickly looked back down. Her hazel eyes were dull, blonde hair hanging in dirty clumps. She hadn't brushed her hair or changed her clothes in days, still wearing the same old sweatpants and t-shirt as she had been for the last week. She stumbled to the kitchen, and opened h...

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“All You Have To Do Is Read” by Mickie Royce

Submitted to Contest #84

The alarm rang.He stopped it and dragged himself out of bed, preparing himself for his day.He straightened up his bed, neatly fluffing and placing the pillows.He showered, letting the soap cleanse his body, the water going down the drain.He got dressed, buttoning down his white-collar shirt, tying his tie around his neck.He walked into the kitchen and sat at the counter.He heard toast pop out of the toaster.His wife, Cassie, spread jam on the toast, put it on a small saucer and handed it to her husband.He took a bite of the toast. It was bur...

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“The House on Echome Lane” by Natalie Park

Submitted to Contest #84

2012 I wake up to fresh snow and an impeccable E minor scale. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s 7:12 AM. I already know, of course, but it’s habit—and habit is a winsome task. Either way, it’s far too early to be squinting at the pale gold sun slanting in through the window. As much as I love Mary, I’ve never had any desire to develop a perfect pitch for E.Reluctantly, I slip out of bed. Mondays are tedious, and this one especially. Or is it Tuesday?I’ve lost count. But that tends to happen to you, when every day is a rubber sta...

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“Camus Is Not A Fool” by Ishan Chopra

Submitted to Contest #84

I open the gilded leather bound notebook, its pages made of beautiful heavy textured handmade paper. Oh I could write thousands of words about the paper I was writing thousands of words on. What would be the point you would think? What's the point of anything when the world has crumbled. Am I being too dramatic? Well ok let's say the world has crumpled - like a ball of paper squeezed in the hands of a child. The world is as small as the living room that I sit in. The world is the couch I rest my potato behind on, while potato chips lay scatt...

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“Twilight” by Anne Ryan

Submitted to Contest #84

March. March what though? March 14? 16? He couldn't remember. It had been too long cooped up in four walls, same situation, same bed, TV, makeshift workstation, kitchen cupboards. Same everything for almost a year. Demetrio nervously patted his face with a towel, turning it to the right, then left, then right again. Was it “in” to look clean-shaven? Or did he now look too stiff and formal? Should he have left a five-o’clock-shadow? Shrugging, he swished the comb through his auburn-tinted brown...

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“Grey days no more” by Michelle Sherlock

Submitted to Contest #84

As each day greyed into one, Vashtin wondered how long it had been since his capture. Since he’d screamed Run and Hide to the naïve Guardian. Days had stretched interminably since then. Boredom punctuated only by violence and interrogation but little more. Nothing of what made life worth living. If he had paper and pen, he would have been able to make some sense of what had happened to him. What was still happening to him. Anything would be better than being stuck in limbo, waiting to be killed or tortured. Vashtin had long since given up...

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“what day is it today?” by Firdaus Raunaq

Submitted to Contest #84

What day is it today? Her eyes opened slowly. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Historia sat up and stretched a little. The clock on her bed side table read 11:04 am in big red letters, almost mocking her. What day is it today? She looked up at the ceiling. The constellation looking back at her, the glow in the dark stars losing its light in the brightness of her room. How many days has she stared up at the stars dimmed by the sunlight pouring from her window? How many nights had she watched them glow? Being in a pandemic ...

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“The Space Between The Past and the Present ” by Alex Arias

Submitted to Contest #84

Today is yesterday. Or is it tomorrow? If tomorrow’s today, then when was yesterday? The day before? I feel like I walk in circles just to end up at the beginning. Beginning of what, I couldn’t tell you.Wait a minute. Who are you? You, the one slouched over, staring? Do you know what day it is? Ah, you’re a quiet one, just like the stars. That’s ok. You can stay and listen.I live in a tin trailer perched on the pocket of space between the past and the present. Or the present and the future. But not the past and the future. That’s where ...

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Start your story with a character struggling to remember the date, because every day is like the last one.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 177 stories

“Wine Down Wednesday, Maybe?” by Julie Roten

“My reason for Time” by Kien Vargas

“entropy.” by Kaitlyn Gress

“the sixth extinction ” by Alexandra Michael

“Survivor” by Eva Parker

“Tomorrow's yesterday” by Zsófia Meszlényi

“Double Windsor” by Mike Garrigan

“Jasper” by Allison Nielsen

“All You Have To Do Is Read” by Mickie Royce

“The House on Echome Lane” by Natalie Park

“Camus Is Not A Fool” by Ishan Chopra

“Twilight” by Anne Ryan

“Grey days no more” by Michelle Sherlock

“what day is it today?” by Firdaus Raunaq

“The Space Between The Past and the Present ” by Alex Arias

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story that spans exactly a year and takes place in a single room.

Write about someone who grew up in a bunker, and lockdown life is all they’ve ever known.

Set your story in a post-pandemic world, where the effects are still felt even as your character attempts to move on.

Write about someone who’s trying to accomplish a task that used to be easy but is now made complicated by a pandemic.

Contest #84

Enter our weekly contest!

$50

Prize money

664

Contest entries

0

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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