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Posted in Dramatic on Jul 25, 2025

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✍️ 120 stories

Dinner on 27th street

Submitted to Contest #313

TW: language and murder Dinner On 27th Street Late again. I should’ve figured she would be. Evelyn’s been late more and more recently. Its our 10th anniversary and it seems like everyone in town is at this restaurant tonight except for my wife. I’ve called and texted but no reply. Fuck it, I need a drink. The waiter passes by and I order a bottle of wine. Soon after, the waiter notices how fast I’m blowing through the bottle and offers me the menu. To no surprise I order the duck. And another bottle. Not like Evelyn is here to bitch at me ...

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Spectrum

Submitted to Contest #313

Contains some domestic violence Spectrum I can’t stop staring. Beautiful you. I will fix your face in my mind and on my palette, I will blend pigments with joy until I can paint you in colours of wonderful. My stained fingers itch and twitch, picking and snagging at the flimsy cotton of my long skirt. It is bitterly cold—my thick cardigan and scarf, the only items to ward off the chill. Already, I am mentall...

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In her mind

Submitted to Contest #313

Sara was an architect, a wife, and a wonderful mother. Her husband, Michael, worked as a lawyer at a well-known law firm. They lived in Malibu in a luxurious two-story house with a pool, a sauna, and a household staff. During their studies and engagement, they had traveled extensively across Europe and Asia. Their little daughter, Lili, was born two years after their wedding and became their whole world—especially for Sara. The young mother had not worked for six months, devoting herself entirely to the home and her child. They had everythin...

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Upbringing

Submitted to Contest #313

It was pitch black, an endless sea of darkness. Were I to struggle, I might find myself drawn deeper into the abyss too far from the surface. My consciousness a mere afterthought in the face of such a void. Tears stung at my eyes before my vision jerked back to normalcy, and the world faded back into view. I continued to peer into the black curtain. It was drawn partially, achieving a rather dramatic effect while emphasizing the center stage and shrouding us bystanders. I listened closely then to the chant of the keys. Preferentially, I lik...

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The Wedding

Submitted to Contest #313

Sarah woke with a start and checked the date on her phone. Nerves and excitement coursed through her body, vying for attention. Her first thought was for Mike. How was he feeling? Voices drifted up the stairs, the words indistinct but the noise familiar. Her mother’s fast, high-pitched instructions and her father’s low monosyllabic responses. The doorbell rang and light footsteps tapped along the hall. The front door swung open with a squeak, almost directly below her. More voices, low, but with an urgency about them. Sarah lay in her childh...

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Imposter

Submitted to Contest #313

TW: Death implied, but not described in detail. ***I don’t belong here. It’s the clock that throws me off, its rhythmic thudding quiet, but consistent. Insistent. It is an impatient fist banging on the door to my consciousness – demanding to be let in. I try to focus on shallowing my breathing, but inevitably my controlled breaths fall in line with the clock’s cadenced beat, and I start to think about it again. Every thump reminds me of how out of place I am. You. Don’t. Belong. Here. It seems to say, on repeat. It’s right. I don’t belong h...

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Sometimes You Just Gotta Make Your Own Rules

Submitted to Contest #313

{Language, implied sexual violence} “Alex, I'm so worried about this. You could be the one who ends up getting hurt.” “Yes, I know, but I have to do this. We just have to hope the plan on paper holds true for the plan in action.” I'm glad she can't see how hard I'm gripping the phone. “Believe me, I’ll be hoping that with all my heart until this mission is over.” "Just take care of yourself, Chrissy, so you can come home tomorrow." * * * Born and raised in this city, and yet in all my 26 years I’d never set foot in this part of town. Even l...

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The Sleepover

Submitted to Contest #313

The SleepoverThe Diary of Aubrey LaneEntry #1August 2Mia came over again last night.She showed up just after eleven, like always a quiet knock, two taps, pause, two more. I’ve gotten good at opening the window without making noise. It’s almost like muscle memory now. She doesn’t like using the front door. She says it feels too final..She brought the sour gummy worms I like, even though I never told her they were my favorite. She just… knows. Of course she does.We curled up in my room and watched Child’s Play again. She still laughs at the pa...

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The Forest that Makes You See Things that Aren't There

Submitted to Contest #313

The forest has a way of making you see things that aren’t there. Faces in bark. Arms in branches. Whispers in the wind that sound like secrets you had long forgotten. But the king had commissioned them ages ago and time was running out.Felix and Kai had put it off for as long as they could, clinging to rumors as excuses and the names of those that never left. But promises to the crown were never broken.And even though they were twisting their fingers and cinching their breath, they refused to let the other see it. As they stood before the ed...

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The Last Visit

Submitted to Contest #313

The Last VisitGary E. Grissom I turned 80 on May 20th. Looking back on my life, I realize I’ve had a good one. Not all good of course, but mostly so. However, I must admit that I cringe when I recall some of the stupid things I did or said in my days of misspent youth. For instance, there was a wild night in Tijuana when a friend and I outran some cops to avoid being taken to jail. We had defended a young woman who slapped a jerk for pinching her on the butt. But the cops had only seen us fighting the creep who had accosted her and we were ...

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The Last Fishing Trip

Submitted to Contest #313

The water lazily lapped against the aluminum boat hull. The gentle waves reflected the diminishing light as the sun slowly began to dip below the treeline of the small tree-linned lake. Hector had spent many days fishing this very lake with his grandfather. It was their secret lake, so his grandfather Alfred claimed. His grandfather was so secretive that Hector wasn't entirely sure he knew the actual name of the lake. In most discussions with other anglers, Alfred regularly changed the name of the lake in question. Was he forgetful? No. Alf...

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The Hidden

Submitted to Contest #313

Alright, I’m off to work, dear. Oh, I hate when you work nights, my love. I get so worried. He strides over to her, making silly gestures with his hands and face. By the time he reaches her to put his arms around her, she is full of smiles with a single tear dripping out of her left eye. Now, dear, you know you have nothing to fear, and you see how this job goes. I can’t control what my clientele does day or night, but duty is duty. He opens the left side of his coat, revealing the side-holstered pistol tucked neatly against his ribs and hid...

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The Open Laptop

Submitted to Contest #313

“Grandma!” Amy shouts as she runs towards me. She’s my 6 year old great granddaughter. It’s Saturday morning, and she and her mother are here for a visit. Amy reaches to me and gives me a big hug. Then she nestles into the sofa beside me hugging her stuffed teddy bear and says, “Tell me the lake story again. Please, Grandma. Please.” I’m 92 and I live in Duncanville, TX. My partner Bill passed away two years ago and now I live alone in a nursing home. These weekly Saturday morning visits with Amy and Dorothy ...

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Who You Are in the Dark

Submitted to Contest #313

Here it is. It's the final hour. Everything done, said, and suffered through has led to this moment. Here at the top of a tower that was built with the blood and bones of those beneath. This is it. All the pieces are finally in place. All that is needed now is to pull the trigger, but not yet. Something is missing. No, someone. She will be here any minute to stop it. Well, to try. To continue is impossible without first seeing the hope drain from her tender face. The sight will be just as titillating as the deed itself. Here she comes. He ca...

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Revenge, or Pranks?

Submitted to Contest #313

People die in this story My name is Charlie. I’m living at a motel, really a homeless shelter, with my mom. I started working there a few years ago as a volunteer, cutting grass, and helping the regular maintenance man, Clark, by doing odd jobs and mowing the grass. Clark showed me how to start and use the mower. There is no working pool, one of my jobs is to keep the gate locked, and the pool covered with a tarp, and check it daily. The volunteer bit was court ordered, after some trials I was involved in. I have been working here f...

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