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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write a story about an argument that seems to be about one thing, but is actually about another.

Posted in Dialogue on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 121 stories

“Consequences” by Chloe Francis

Submitted to Contest #50

I stare at the washing up in the sink, listening to her laugh fade into silence. She was sat at the table, still nursing a mug of cold coffee she won’t drink. I wonder if it’s like a security blanket, and if it would be cruel to find out.  ‘So, have you heard back from the university?’ She asks, her voice piercing through my train of thought.  I sigh as I finish washing up my used mug and turn to face her, my back leaning against the edge of the sink. A wet patch sinks through my thin shirt, but I prefer to keep a distance.&nbs...

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“Not again” by Amy Hunter

Submitted to Contest #50

The small toaster pops as the old kettle whistles. It's morning time in San Francisco, exactly 9 o’clock. I hum loudly to myself as my husband quietly scrolls on his phone. Things have been going well between us lately, we’ve been more connected than ever since the last incident. I stir a wad of honey into my daily cup of tea as I join my husband at our table. “Lovely day today isn’t it?" I ask him while gazing at his handsome face. He grins at his phone then looks up to me “Yeah I guess so”. My smile droops a bit. What was that? Why is he s...

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“What are we arguing about” by Moist Ma

Submitted to Contest #50

Drake and Sandra we're driving to the party.Sandra protested "I don't want to go, I don't like big groups of people. I don't go to parties, what am I going to say? What do drunk people talk about?""You'll be fine, just try to be yourself and relax" said Drake"That's horrible advice, it's a paradox. I think I seen it on tv. 'have you ever tried to relax it's a paradox.' Do you know what ironic reversal is? you don't try to be yourself, you'd be acting then" Sandra said"Well then don't just act, BE" said DrakeSandra forced a smile. Drake could...

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“Dim Sims” by Hugh Marlow

Submitted to Contest #50

It was 11:24 PM when we left the Chinese restaurant. I remember, because Eliza was upset that we were heading home so late – she had a morning shift. She would always tell me about how hard it was to wake up at 3am, how god awful the commute was, how dreadful the job was, how she was tired of everything. She had also found the dim sims subpar. I thought they were okay, but they had scalded my mouth, and I had spilt some of the juice on my shirt. “This is going to stain,” I said. “Jesus Christ, Brandon,” Eliza said. “It’s just a shirt.” ...

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“Betrayal” by Grace Akin

Submitted to Contest #50

We sat in silence, not knowing how to address the elephant in the room. He seems oblivious to why I no longer embrace him, why I sleep on the couch. Why I don't eat his meals. I want to scream, shout, kick, yell, but instead I just stay silent. He looked a bit exhausted, as though he really didn't know what he did. The evidence goes against him, but I don't know how to bring it up. What am I going to do next? How far was he willing to go with Rachel? To my own horror, I not only heard everything, but I saw it too. I should've confronted them...

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“The Danger of Dirty Dishes ” by Sydney Little

Submitted to Contest #50

The bowl already looks clean. I’m pretty sure that if I held it up in the right light I could see my reflection in it. But that would require taking the bowl out of Katie’s hands and she seems to have a lethal grip on it, so I let her keep scrubbing. There’s really nothing else to do when she gets like this. She used to say that cleaning calms her but it doesn’t seem like that to me. Even now she’s grunting as if the bowl is physically fighting back against the sponge.  I picked the wrong time to refill my glass of water. I think abou...

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“Red lips, Cups and Break ups.” by Loluu Cabie

Submitted to Contest #50

It was a one slow Thursday evening, around 7 pm. I just woke up from the dreamy slumber I've had, the touch of the wind was getting chillier. I was still feeling a little hazy and baked from the marijuana brownies I ate before dwelling on the quest of lonesome unconsciousness. I woke up with the deathly cravings for something sweet and cold sitting on a cup with the famous "S" word. It was so fucked up for me to be drinking a strawberry smoothie when it's a 5°C I know but you gotta do what you gotta do when you are high and hungry and cravin...

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“Time Capsule: A Love Story” by Jenna Melancon

Submitted to Contest #50

Connor Lobell and his wife, Loretta Smith-Lobell, drove down the deserted highway, cornstalks waving on either side of them in the afternoon breeze. “You’re going too fast, Loretta,” Connor said. Loretta gritted her teeth, but remained silent. “I know it looks like there’s no one around, but there could be a cop hidden around any corner,” Conner went on. “There are no corners. There hasn’t been a corner in a hundred miles,” Loretta replied, cursing herself for getting sucked into another argument. They’d done nothing but argue since leaving...

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“Le Chapeau” by Dylan Heath

Submitted to Contest #50

“I will not stop harping on this. I told you I didn’t want the escargot, but you got it anyway.” “Yeah and I ate it. You didn’t have any of it. So what’s the problem?” “Of course I didn’t have any of it. It’s disgusting. They’re fucking snails, what’s wrong with you?” Sara leaned over at her waist to level her eyes with Avi. She waved her index finger in her face. Her left hand held tight on her hip and her long blond hair spilled out of her neat bun and hung over her glasses.  “I like them. I wanted them. I ordered them so I could e...

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“Little Rose” by KAUSTABH KASHYAP

Submitted to Contest #50

'The shepherd's pot of gold was back at home.'Your boss, a dapper young-man, can pull off a tidy look even in scruffy casuals. Though he sits beside you in his snug, mauve tank-top and deceptively clean chinos, who is to say he won't change into a well-ironed suit in a minute or two. But more than anyone else, he alone has taught you never to size up a book by its covers. That includes him and his cutting, cryptic remarks.You'd think you had given up heeding his wry humor, pouting each time he micromanaged the errands he doled out to you, ju...

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“Pavel and Winnie, September 1939” by J Acheson

Submitted to Contest #50

“Imagine,” Winnie says looking out at the gloom that evening near Bleecker Street. “Imagine that there are two kinds of time.”I sigh, not really able to imagine time in any form, waiting for him to go on.“You’re seated on a large stone in the middle of a mountain brook.”           Outside the streets are slick with fog that had rolled in late in the day. A sheen of wet grim on the black road, a few damp huddled figures leaning into the wind walking southeast. The wind is kicking up debri...

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“The Ceramic Shards of Family” by M M

Submitted to Contest #50

I could tell that my mother was going to pick a fight the moment she walked into the kitchen. Her body seemed to bristle with anger, like an animal who’s searching for a victim of prey. Her eyes scan the countertops. Nothing is out of place. I made sure of that, I always do. I don’t like giving her more reasons for unreasonable arguments. She moves away from the doorway and deeper into the kitchen. Searching, searching, searching. Opening the fridge, shutting it. Opening the drawer, slamming it shut. Opening the cabinet- “The mug is chippe...

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“Who gets the girl.” by Thorum Valdy

Submitted to Contest #50

The glaring midnight lights of the surrounding city had strained every last star from the night sky. Flashing signs and light shows filled the streets amongst the black sheet above that encompassed the city. The blinding scorn of the LED lamps that littered the streets penetrated through the cheap beige window shades where three decades worth of stains had been silhouetted. Tight and filled with the recognizable stench of degeneracy and regret, the two men stood in angry disposition from one another in the darkness of the unlit hotel room, t...

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“In the Closet” by Glen Benison

Submitted to Contest #50

by Glen Benison            Leona couldn’t bear to look at the top, left-hand shelf of her closet. Not anymore.            When she first bought the sexy garments, she was all excited, certain that her plan would resurrect her stale marriage.            Surely, such a romantic enticement would arouse her Joe. She tucked away her new purchase onto the top shelf of her closet and...

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“Just Dishes” by Jake Kempster Male

Submitted to Contest #50

I don’t know how this started. I don’t even know when it’s going to end. But I know who started it, and it definitely wasn’t me. It was my illustrious, saint of a roommate, Maximus Walter Bennett. Or Max, to his friends. But in this argument? I’m using all three names. “So, are you going to do the dishes?” Those were the words that started a cacophony that slowly descended into the screaming match that’s probably keeping all of our neighbours awake. I feel sorry for poor, sweet, old Ms Rosie next door. Hopefully she has her hearing aid t...

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