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Show how an object’s meaning can change as a character changes.

Posted in Dramatic on Sep 23, 2024

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✍️ 58 stories

The Name of the End

Winner of Contest #269 🏆

(CW: Grief, depression) There is a bomb in my hometown, and no one speaks about it. The park that surrounds it acts like a nest, grown up naturally around the smooth, rounded metal body that lies half buried in the soil, the ground itself embracing it. Sensible people would put it out of their minds altogether, but ever since my classmates and I discovered it by sneaking past the barbed wire fence into its clearing, I was never able to. At first, I had been disappointed. This, a charcoal grey container, half hidden by moss and bracken, was ...

130 likes 74 comments 74
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7,4 – 7,6 and a lipstick

Submitted to Contest #269

It was already 3 am.Sigh. Her psychologist wouldn’t like that.But she enjoyed this hour. The calmness, the quiet, the feeling of no chaos.Except for falling asleep. For her, it was an adventure. Chaos. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a proper night’s rest—the kind where you just drift off into complete darkness and wake up feeling ten years younger.Nah, for her, sleep wasn’t torture. It was fascinating. There was never a dull moment in her subconscious. She felt so alive in her dreams, her reality seemed more like the dream.But, ...

65 likes 17 comments 17
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Left

Shortlisted for Contest #269 ⭐️

All that glitters is not gold, or so the saying goes. Marissa fiddled with the band on her left ring finger, sliding it up to the first knuckle then back again. A golden prison, but so pretty. The diamond sparkled in the light, catching the suns rays and reflecting it back like mini fireworks.“What are you going to do?” Jane asked, her limpid eyes studying Marissa’s face with the earnest concern only a best friend could feel.“I don’t know.” Marissa huddled in the chair she’d pulled up to Jane’s island bench, her head throbbing with the echoe...

47 likes 35 comments 35
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Picture day

Submitted to Contest #269

She sat there rummaging through what she brought. The light dimmed and she had to squint to look at anything. The house had a musty smell to it and the walls were a dark gray and she sat there in the midst of it all. She hadn’t looked through what she packed, she had just thrown everything in boxes and then called it a day. She wasn’t sure what she left behind, and she didn’t care. She pulled out a towel. Dirt was everywhere throughout the towel making it hard to distinguish the different colors which once adorned the towel. It’s fabric unra...

36 likes 24 comments 24
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Mister Penguin's Secret

Submitted to Contest #269

I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for the neon-yellow slip flapping against the wind. The sky was booming, and my hands were beginning to cramp from the bags of groceries I was carrying. I had to get my groceries in before the clouds began to weep.  Still, I dropped one hand’s worth of groceries on the ground and picked up the note, which was slipped onto the split ring of a penguin keychain. The keychain was sitting in front of a rather worn-out looking house. Before I could examine any longer, a gust of wind threw my h...

34 likes 11 comments 11
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Benighted

Submitted to Contest #269

Benighted“Do you sleep with all of your muses?” asked Hybris, with blarney drooling. Sipping at his absinthe, Narcissus guffawed at length, till he gloated by smirking like a lewd Cheshire Cat. “How else would I replicate the intricacies of my womanly muses’ bodies?” Employing a tone of being affronted, Narcissus resumed: “One cannot paint something without plumbing its depths. As sailors rely on the North Star for divine guidance, I depend upon carnality to create my art.” Narcissus lolled in murdersome contempt at having debauche...

31 likes 7 comments 7
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Wrapper

Shortlisted for Contest #269 ⭐️

Before I even saw your face, I had the wrapper picked out. It was made of crimson Ankara, adorned with golden flowers outlined in black. I had others, of course - which Yoruba woman doesn’t? But that one was yours.  When I first pressed you against my back and draped you in the fabric, shifting so you’d be comfortable when your grandmother tied it off, I fought to blink back the tears. After months of hospital visits and late night feeding sessions, you were finally big enough to be backed. I tried to imagine what it would feel like for...

27 likes 11 comments 11
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Doll

Submitted to Contest #269

On the bric-a-brac shelf / of a nineties’ charity shop / a doll, feet glued to a wooden box…Three lines in, and after a good deal of jiggery-pokery to centre them just so, I turn away from the screen, unsure of whether to grimace or grin, or if, indeed, there’s any point to my adopting either expression. The doll about which I’m writing, and whose shape I had hoped to recreate in the form of a calligram (Oh yes, I can do that, no problem, Mister Writers’ Group Task-Setter, Sir, I can attempt to rival George Herbert’s ‘The Altar’) will smile ...

22 likes 13 comments 13
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Chained to the Past

Submitted to Contest #269

We trap our souls in our possessions to remind us of our past. Photos coated in dust line the walls. That moth-eaten jacket that hangs at the back of the wardrobe. They are doomed to sit for eternity because we cling to the memory they instil. We fear losing the item will result in us losing part of our soul. An anchor to the past that doesn’t let us find a new future.  Stella lay back on her couch running the chain holding her engagement ring through her fingers. She stared at a line of ads on the TV when ...

18 likes 6 comments 6
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It Must Be A Sign

Submitted to Contest #269

Penny Brown was on the way to see her dying dad when she hit her head on a giant sign. She whisper-yelled, “Ow! Shit!’ and hastily wiped away her reactionary tears. Penny looked up at the sign. It was bright orange and read, “IT’S A GOOD DAY TO TRY A NEW SANDWICH.” Penny stared at the sign for 17 seconds, then whacked it with her hand. She whisper-yelled, “Ow! Fuck!” She watched the absurdly large sign swing sadly, and then carried on walking.The sign wasn’t there yesterday. Or the day before. Penny didn’t like the sudden addition to her mid...

17 likes 7 comments 7
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Death Changed Everything for Bill Brown

Submitted to Contest #269

[Story deals with issues of death. Death of a child] They were a close-knit community living on the shores of Lake Erie. With 2500 residents, it was reasonable to assume that everyone knew everyone who lived nearby or that someone else knew someone who lived nearby.  It was like a never-ending plague. Every day, everyone followed the same routine. This town is the last place on the planet where time stood still. There was no death, no new life, and the city's timeless state remained. Stuck. That's what they were. There was no way to mov...

15 likes 4 comments 4
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The Keys to Everything

Submitted to Contest #269

The keys jingled in my hand, and I felt my heart leap like a spark ready to catch fire. “This is it,” I whispered, barely containing the excitement bubbling up inside me. My very own place in the city. The tiny brass teeth pressing into my palm were the key to everything I’d ever wanted—freedom from the small town where I’d spent my entire life, a fresh start with a real teaching career, a space that was truly mine. I slid the key into the lock, savoring the quiet click as the door opened. “Damn, Mara,” Bri said, poking her head inside. “Thi...

15 likes 2 comments 2
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Mirror Mine

Submitted to Contest #269

 I found the mirror when I was very young. I remember that it caught my eye because it was very pink, a little rose splotch in the mud. It was so very clean in the midst of that mess. I know that it’s not the most extraordinary thing to look at- just a pink plastic makeup mirror. But to that little girl, it was fascinating.So I picked it up, and I flipped it over and over in my mittens. Dad never liked me to go out in the cold, so on the rare snow days when he did, I was bundled in thick layers. I could hardly move, and if I fell over I...

13 likes 9 comments 9
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Just a Rock

Submitted to Contest #269

It's just a stupid rock.That's what I keep telling myself as I turn the smooth, scaly stone over in my hand. Mom swears it's a dragon's egg, claims it's been passed down through our family for generations. Yeah, right. As if dragons were ever real.I toss it onto my nightstand and flop onto my bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling. They used to make me feel like I was floating in space, but now they just look childish. Everything in this room does. The stuffed animals, the fantasy books, the drawings of mythical creat...

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It was Grandma's

Submitted to Contest #269

Summers were spent at Grandpa’s old farmhouse and running through heated fields of wheat and grass. Grandpa would spend sun-up to sundown in the fields or around the barn and us kids were expected to entertain ourselves. We would run through the fields, buzzing and jumping along with the insects that abounded in the summer months. And on the rare occasion that it would rain, we would spend those days up in the attic, exploring old trunks and boxes that had layers of dust coating them.Julia and Hayden had already hurried to lunch, called down...

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