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

“From the Swing” by Marie C

Submitted to Contest #269

I liked the swing: we always had the swing, even when I was a girl and couldn’t reach the seat because my limbs weren’t long enough to pull myself into the seat. I liked the world from the swing best: the trees did little dancing movements that they didn’t dare when I was standing on two, solid feet. The wind didn’t brush and smooth my cheeks: the grass wasn’t so stiff and dark.It blurred, like a stretch of fabric, like my mother’s bedsheets. I couldn’t take the swing with me to school, or when I went walking down the road, or...

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“My Bear” by Felicity Fender

Submitted to Contest #269

When I was just a year old, I was given a stuffed animal panda bear for my birthday from my father. It wasn’t anything special. Yet in my eyes, it was my most valuable belonging. I named him Daddy Bear, because as a one year old, you don’t know what a real name is. I took him everywhere. I slept with him every night. He was always so happy to come with me and snuggle. He was good at snuggling. My father wasn’t home most of the time. He worked in the Navy, which demanded a lot of his time. He had to leave and work in Japan for two years...

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“The Framekeeper’s Lament” by Asja Novelista

Submitted to Contest #269

ThursdayThe room lay silent, its corners draped in shadows that whispered tales of absence. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting patterns of light on the dust motes that danced in the air.The Framekeeper sat in his old, worn armchair, facing the dimly lit fireplace, its soft glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. The wine coursed through his veins, its warmth spreading a delightful languor as his eyelids grew heavy. Peace was a luxury he hadn’t felt in a long time. All he cared about was in front of him—the wine and the warmt...

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“Changing the Lens ” by Chase Stuart

Submitted to Contest #269

The empty box landed by the door with a thud. Amelia glanced back down at the pile of papers, calendars and stationary. She picked up the calendar that had hung on her dorm room wall and flipped through the cell pictures. She paused on the October page, her eyes catching on the last crossed off date; October 1st. It was a Tuesday and had cellular physiology lecture 10-12, mammalian physiology lab 2-3 and human physiology reading, written on it. She frowned down at the calendar, the list of classes and assignments written for the month. She h...

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“Margot” by Margaret Kelleher

Submitted to Contest #269

Margot shuffled along the footpath pulling her trusty trolley behind her. Her coat fluttered in the breeze as the one remaining button had finally given up the ghost and fallen off. Her shoes were sturdy with still plenty of wear in them, even if they pinched a bit when she walked. That was the trouble with walking a mile in someone else's shoes when the someone else had dainty feet.She prided herself on keeping the bright side out but not today.The invitation to her nephew's wedding initially elated her until she realised that she'd nothing...

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“Shoes” by Laura Fred-Smith

Submitted to Contest #269

Past references to Alcohol abuse and Domestic Violence “How many pairs of shoes do you really need?” Scott asks his wife in exasperation as he trips over a shoe for at least the third time this week. “They are overflowing the shoe rack again. This weekend, can you go through them to see if there are any that you don’t wear and can donate?” “I can try, but each of my shoes has a different purpose.” Hurrying to the hallway near the front door, Laura scoops up as many shoes as she can to cram them back onto the shoe shelves and out of the walkw...

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“record scratches” by Sasha Beale

Submitted to Contest #269

“Hey grandpa, what’s this?” “Hm?” Arthur grunts, leaning back on his armchair. His muscles ache as he adjusts to see his grandson in the other room, an instinctual groan leaving his lips at the mere motion. Getting old is a poison – one that he has long succumbed to. “What is it, Charlie? I can’t see.” “I don’t know! It’s really dirty and has this weird horn thing coming out of it,” Charlie calls back. “I wonder if you blow on it–” “Don’t blow on it!” Arthur shouts back, shaking his head. He shifts in his position, “Just bring it over ...

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“Signal Lost, Connection Found” by Poppy LaC.

Submitted to Contest #269

CONTAINS: Profanity & Gore As the locker door opens, a letter and a box thud on the ground. She bends down grabbing the box and letter, setting them on the shelf in her locker. Rowan, Daphne’s tall, charming boyfriend snuck up behind her, covering her eyes. “Guess who?” Daphne sighed, “Hmm… early 2000’s Chad Micheal Murray?” Rowan rolled his eyes jokingly, uncovering her eyes. “You’re a bit off, and by a bit, I mean completely.” Daphne giggled, “Yeah, I’m just messing with ya.” Daphne grabbed her schoolbag, pack...

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“Claire's Ring” by Michelle Kenerly

Submitted to Contest #269

At the kitchen table, a small black box sat atop the papers. The man sat waiting. Claire walked to the fridge to get the oat milk and the mug on the towel. She watched as the Keurig gurgled, and she could smell maple pecan. She turned and walked to the table. Her eyes immediately shot to the box and then down to the floor. "I can't." No response. "I'm ready to go." No response. "I'm trapped."The man stared at the box. "Why?"The man stared at the box."What do you expect me to do?""Open it."Claire picked up the box; her hands tr...

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“Now Everyone Can Have a Coffee-Maker at Home” by Bethany Knaff

Submitted to Contest #269

Oh, this looks like a small house, too small. Is this an apartment? I’ve never been in an apartment before! Sitting on the shelf next to the intimidating percolator I imagined I would end up in some delicate French cafe, or an English estate. That’s where the percolator came from, I believe, the noble coffee-maker it is, the Débelloire, all French and brass. It was no longer for sale, though, as old as it was, but it told me all the stories of the large kitchens and the maids, who’d gossip and chatter as they flitted about heating the stove ...

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“The Vase” by Bridgette Abbott

Submitted to Contest #269

I extracted the antique vase from its cardboard moving box, disappointed that it was, as always, perfectly intact. No matter how frequently the vase gets transported from one place to another, it never breaks. Not a single crack. As a heavily career driven middle aged woman, I move quite often. When I move, the vase moves with me. I assumed possession of this vase when my mother died quite a few years ago. I’ve had this vase for over a decade now. Covered in intricate and delicate painting marks, I made the choice to hold onto this unique ha...

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“The Fairy's Magical Quill ” by Leigh Beltrame Markon

Submitted to Contest #269

Once upon a time, there was a magician that loved to make magical items. One day a beautiful fairy came and asked him if if he could take her favorite feather and turn it into a magical quill so she could write out her magical season changing spells. He was so excited and agreed. He took the beautiful purple feather and cast a special spell just for the fairy. It sparkled and turned a brilliant blue light and then went back to it's original state. He took a piece of paper and began to write with the newquilland each line shone that sam...

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“The Strings Of Her Heart” by Abigail Rebekah

Submitted to Contest #269

Jack got a violin for Christmas. I didn’t mind at first, blissfully unaware that my future was now going to be constantly interrupted by sharp, squeaking notes that whined incessantly, filling every corner of our small house. Jack absolutely loved his gift; ever since he’d heard Grandfather ring out a tune on his own violin, he’d borne a deep wonder for this instrument that possessed the ability to sing any emotion. And now he had his own. “Grandfather will teach you.” Father had promised. And so he did; coming around every time he was in ou...

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“Remember” by Cathy Morgan

Submitted to Contest #269

She couldn’t remember how she got there. All she knew was that she was sore and hungry and tired. She closed her eyes for a moment to try and remember. It didn’t seem to help. When she opened them, she looked around hoping to find some clue as to what might have happened.She was sitting in the sand on a beach. The wind was blowing, and the moon was in the sky above her. The area was deserted, which seemed reasonable since it appeared to be the middle of the night. The sandy beach appeared to stretch for miles in...

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

Submissions are closed

✍️ 59 stories

“From the Swing” by Marie C

“My Bear” by Felicity Fender

“The Framekeeper’s Lament” by Asja Novelista

“Changing the Lens ” by Chase Stuart

“Margot” by Margaret Kelleher

“Shoes” by Laura Fred-Smith

“record scratches” by Sasha Beale

“Signal Lost, Connection Found” by Poppy LaC.

“Claire's Ring” by Michelle Kenerly

“Now Everyone Can Have a Coffee-Maker at Home” by Bethany Knaff

“The Vase” by Bridgette Abbott

“The Fairy's Magical Quill ” by Leigh Beltrame Markon

“The Strings Of Her Heart” by Abigail Rebekah

“Remember” by Cathy Morgan

🌟 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: