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

Posted in Dramatic on Sep 23, 2024

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✍️ 59 stories

“Just a Rock” by Jonathan Baldie

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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“BooBoo Bear” by Alexa Intrator

Submitted to Contest #269

BooBoo Bear BooBoo Bear had dun-colored fur and a shiny green bow and was introduced to the children after sitting placidly under the Christmas tree from around 2 am (tired grownup time) to 6:42 am (early children’s time) on Christmas day 1987. Presents sparkled anonymously in fancy wrapping, and the tree glowed. Patrick and Clarissa scuffled through the kitchen into the Christmas room. A large stuffed bear sat under the tree wrapped only in a green bow. Clarissa was hesitant: the bear was as big as she was. Even the mild wool smile didn’t r...

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“Romantic debauchery” by Anna Rajmon

Submitted to Contest #269

25 September 2024Dear Old Sport,With vague intent and a spark in my heart, I reminisce about the days when I first met you. What was it that dazzled me about you? Your intellect, your intelligence, perhaps it was that Irish charm or those huge green eyes of yours? Our first date – you took me to Dún Laoghaire. We walked along the pier under the constant attacks of seagulls (God, how I despise those winged beasts). You slowly let me fall in love with you. You awakened love in me and set my heart on fire, but you never intended to return those...

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“A Question of Destiny” by Kat Nicholls

Submitted to Contest #269

A Question of Destiny The army is marching. How their armour glitters and gleams in the sun, how proud are the banners that they carry before them. The feet of the soldiers rhythmically hammer the flagstones, the trumpets blow their bright, brassy calls, the drums pound, all to proclaim another heroic victory over yet another conquered land. I admit, the soldiers can be a little hard to see through all the dust their pounding feet kicks up, but still, we have one of the best views of the triumphal parade. The noble emperor,...

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“The Dress” by Fran Hirschel

Submitted to Contest #269

The Dress I grew up in a modest apartment in Astoria in Queens. Our block was made up of mostly 6 story apartment buildings, although there were three single family homes. One of them had a magnificent magnolia tree that bloomed each spring in brilliant pink and white flowers. I walked past that tree four times a day when I was in elementary school: going to PS 5 in the morning, returning home for lunch, and then going back to school for the afternoon session and returning home again after school. Today it seems foreign; ...

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“Musings on Rum Raisin” by Allison Leahy

Submitted to Contest #269

Object's meaning changes as a character changesObject: Rum Raisin LipstickAs a young woman in her 20s in New York City, I always wore Rum Raisin lipstick by L'Oreal. For one, it was my sister's favorite color, and it always looked great on her. I loved my sister more than anything.Also, Rum Raisin? OK, I have a "raisin" on my arm. It is actually a birthmark shaped like a raisin.My birthmark is called my "raisin". See, there was a story I read as a child about a gingerbread girl who ran away. The whole gingerbread community looked for her: wh...

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“Time in Decant” by Katy Lindsey

Submitted to Contest #269

CW: cancer, death, grief, alcohol abuseThe crystal decanter casts rainbows of ruby onto the floor, where I lie, too. Red. Such a pretty color.The prism to its left, however, isn’t a healthy thing to keep around, and I should honestly toss it.It’s not that I particularly enjoy Pink Floyd’s music. Their discography holds a bittersweet, flagellatory interest for me now, but Carrie saw me spiral—or listen, I suppose, from her point of view—to Brain Damage, back when I let her see me at all, and decided to gift the little light-bender to me for ...

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“The Helping Hand” by Sjan Evardsson

Submitted to Contest #269

1984: Gwen lay on the grass in the circle of mushrooms, drawing Fae-touched Fran, her comic heroine. Like her, Fran was a recent high-school grad, just a hair over five feet tall, with strawberry blonde hair, one green and one brown eye, and a spattering of freckles across her pale face. Unlike her, Fran had been given a gift by the fae, The Helping Hand, a pendant that allowed her to teleport anywhere she desired, that just as often took her instead to where she was needed. Fran had no other superpowers, instead relying on her knowledge and...

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“The Weight of a Ring” by Jackson Anhalt

Submitted to Contest #269

“You better beat me down there. I don’t like wife beaters, and I don’t like men who touch children,” said an elderly-sounding man. The phone disconnected, and the line went dead. “What the hell?” I muttered, my hand frozen on my keyboard. “What just happened?” Alicia asked, swiveling her chair toward me, her voice edged with concern. “Check the update,” I said, rubbing my temples as I tried to piece together what I had just heard. Calls like this one always left a pit in my stomach – a mess of fear and danger lingering in the air. The ...

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“His Weighted Blanket” by Brigid Ward

Submitted to Contest #269

I couldn't take a picture of the scene because he needed both of my arms. So, instead I close my eyes tightly. I try my best to take a mental snapshot, envisioning it, hoping it is landing in the corner of my mind. A picture of my own. A rare moment, just us, my first born and me, not his sister. He is now eleven. Not little but almost a teenager. Somehow tonight I have one arm in each crook of his neck with Doggy the stuffed animal sandwiched in between. I couldn’t dare risk lifting an arm and breaking the spell, the moment in time. He was ...

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“A Box Without Hinges, Key, or Lid” by 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔡𝔞𝔩𝔲𝔭𝔢 𝔗𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔯

Submitted to Contest #269

Content warning: Mentions of deathEggs were for eating back then. I mean when the little girl was small. The white or brown oblong balls her mother and father used for cooking were a fascination. She loved holding them new from the fridge, cradled in her hands like a snowball that did not melt. They would grow lukewarm after a time, and the egg would finally be taken away to go into pancakes or brownies or whatever was being made. When the shells were down in the garbage, it was funny to look in and see how the brown ones were white on the i...

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“The Black Ashtray” by J.D. McDonald

Submitted to Contest #269

The Black AshtrayJ.D. McDonald Life is an amazing journey. The most breathtaking moments often happen when we venture down an unexpected path. The peculiar thing about life is that you never know when misfortune might transform into good fortune. A friend of mine has always had the absolute worst bad luck a person can have. She has failed miserably in the three areas we most desire to have good luck: love, fortune, and health. Despite facing constant setbacks, she approaches each day with a lighthearted sense of humor and fragile remnan...

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“Elara's Locket” by Patrick Johnson

Submitted to Contest #269

In the shadowed depths of a forgotten village, nestled between the brooding hills and the foreboding forest, there lived a young girl named Elara. Her curiosity was insatiable, and her love for the unknown often led her to the darkest corners of the world around her. One fateful day, while wandering through the forest, she stumbled upon an old, weathered locket lying amidst the decaying leaves. The locket, tarnished and covered in grime, seemed to whisper secrets of a bygone era.Elara picked up the locket, her fingers trembling as she cleane...

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“The Old Baseball Glove” by Patrice Nicholas

Submitted to Contest #269

Jackson stared at the old baseball glove sitting on his shelf. It had belonged to his dad, who had passed it down to him when Jackson turned ten. At the time, Jackson didn’t care much for baseball. He found it boring and never understood why his dad loved it so much. It was just a game where you threw a ball around, hit it, and then ran. What was the big deal?Every Saturday morning, Jackson’s dad would invite him to toss a ball around in the backyard. "Come on, champ," he'd say, with a grin that made it hard to say no. "Let’s have some fun!"...

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“Forever Fifteen” by Asher Romero Moeckli

Submitted to Contest #269

Forever Fifteenby: Asher Romero MoeckliCaelum turned 15 tomorrow, and Camila had spent her entire day off working on his present. That morning she’d begged Nic, Caelum’s best friend, to drive her to a nearby photo store so she could print a picture of the three of them. Not one of their official photos that were used to promote the Academy, but one of the three of them out by the lake. Camila’s other brother, Lewis Smyth, had been the one to take the picture, forever freezing the moment when Caelum was attempting to throw a goldfish in...

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

Submissions are closed

✍️ 59 stories

“Just a Rock” by Jonathan Baldie

“BooBoo Bear” by Alexa Intrator

“Romantic debauchery” by Anna Rajmon

“A Question of Destiny” by Kat Nicholls

“The Dress” by Fran Hirschel

“Musings on Rum Raisin” by Allison Leahy

“Time in Decant” by Katy Lindsey

“The Helping Hand” by Sjan Evardsson

“The Weight of a Ring” by Jackson Anhalt

“His Weighted Blanket” by Brigid Ward

“A Box Without Hinges, Key, or Lid” by 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔡𝔞𝔩𝔲𝔭𝔢 𝔗𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔯

“The Black Ashtray” by J.D. McDonald

“Elara's Locket” by Patrick Johnson

“The Old Baseball Glove” by Patrice Nicholas

“Forever Fifteen” by Asher Romero Moeckli

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story about an object that changed everything for a character.

Send your characters on an unforgettable quest to find an essential object.

Center your story around a character who is obsessed with an object.

Write a story about an ordinary object that becomes magical (either literally or figuratively).

Contest #269

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

312

Contest entries

122

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

Explore more writing prompt ideas: