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Write a story about someone who doesn’t know how to let go.

Posted in Dramatic on Sep 16, 2024

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✍️ 121 stories

Jesus and Jockeys

Winner of Contest #185 🏆

CW: stillbirth, brief violence I had to decide what to do with Jesus. Take him home in the backseat of my Versa, or carry him outside and place him beside the triple duty Glad bags at the end of the drive. I knew I was in trouble when I discovered the drawer with all the Jockey underwear. There must have been at least a dozen unopened packages. Three to a pack. All white and French cut. I could hear her extolling the virtues of cotton from the grave. Say what you will about my mother, she understood the value of fabric that breathes.&nb...

145 likes 57 comments 57
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The blind Man's Mona Lisa

Submitted to Contest #185

Please don’t look at me like that again and again. When you look at me, memories of dad saved as waves in the heart sea take birth as tears. When you hold my hand wishing to talk to me I’m breaking myself as glass. When you breathe the abundant air difficultly, I’m melting as a snowdrop thinking about this strange life. You light up the eyelid in the dark room slowly, my heart is shivering. I’m introducing my dad who left me a place like this showing the photo, “This is my dad”. You are looking like greeting my dad. Just slowly spend the ...

89 likes 17 comments 17
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Back to the Stars

Shortlisted for Contest #185 ⭐️

I land in the new pod like a feather. Softly. After gathering stardust, air bubbles, and dirt on my way. At my core, yet tightening like a coil, are memories of me; gathering, entering and ejecting from the pod, a million times before this.I know it is only a matter of weeks before my mind begins to form and the memories from before get pressed against its wall. Deep into the subconscious. The way to which will be heavily guarded afterwards. With that, I will forever lose access to the lifetimes I roamed on this mud ball.My new mind will not...

45 likes 41 comments 41
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With Time and Effort

Submitted to Contest #185

It is out of love that I find myself in St. Catherine’s Cemetery on a cloudy night, with an oil lamp in one hand and a shovel in the other. I will not lie; my stomach roils just as the sea churns nearby, and I search every howl of the wind for the constable’s whistle, and every looming shadow for a mob. Master Hartley’s eyes are wild and his hair, normally kempt, tears madly at the sky. He is an apparition, and had I courage, I would have stopped him ere we set out this eve. But there is colour in his pallid skin again, and he grins. Th...

41 likes 48 comments 48
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Letting Go

Submitted to Contest #185

Time goes on, and I find myself scrolling through my photos. An irritation like a bite from a mosquito.  Twenty years and our relationship became one cupid opposed. It's been nine years since the breakup, and I can't seem to let her go. Days drag like a bag of laundry. I miss you despite the cruelty. Crazy because I defined loyalty. While you were fucking and lying simultaneously. Damn. It's been nine years, and I can't shake it off. Yet the memories flood in as if I forgot. Trying to switch the attention to somethin...

37 likes 19 comments 19
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Manic Menagerie

Shortlisted for Contest #185 ⭐️

It’s 4 AM, and the alarm is set for 6. But I am awake anyways, my brain wired despite a lack of sleep. I decide to get up and begin my morning routine. Every morning, I take time to examine the pieces of my menagerie. It really sets the tone for my day. I cannot do anything else before looking at each one individually. I check my pocket to find them all there, as they always are.First, I examine Perfectionism, and hold it close to my chest. I love it. I need it. It makes me feel whole. It reminds me that I cannot drop a single item in m...

33 likes 37 comments 37
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There’s Always Tomorrow

Submitted to Contest #185

“Am I a hoarder?” my darling 81-year-old husband, Ralph, asks me. I know this is one of those Do or Die moments i.e. I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t answer him honestly. With over 50 years of marriage behind us, I know how sensitive he is and I don’t want to ruffle his drooping feathers. He’s always told me he likes me to be honest, but when I am, most of the time he doesn’t like my honest answer. What do I say? “Um… do you want me to be honest, Ralph?” “OK, so I AM a hoarder eh?” Ralph shouts, not realizing he’s shouting. He...

30 likes 51 comments 51
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And Then There Were Nine

Submitted to Contest #185

Cardboard shoe boxes tower high the walls of our cramped entrance hallway of the apartment on East 23rd street. The ones I need are in a large box at the bottom of this wobbly pyramid. I hold the box above it against the wall, and using my thumb and the very tip of my pinky finger, pull the green box labelled Hoka out.A voice rings out behind me, “You have ten pairs of shoes in the hallway. I think you need to get rid of a few.”“But I need to rotate my shoes to protect my feet,” I say defensively to my wife Melissa.“Ten pairs?”I can’t see he...

27 likes 18 comments 18
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Family Dinner Night

Submitted to Contest #185

CW: swearing Of course it was on Bethany to call to make the reservations for dinner at 7pm. Because Bethany works Monday through Friday 8-5 in an admin position with a dental office. Tyler travels for work, Erin is in law school, Shelly just started her internship with the Women’s clinic, Logan was working from home, but never wakes up before 12, and Jake?Jake made Bethany’s heart flutter. Jake may or may not have a job. He barely answers the group texts; he doesn’t answer Bethany’s phone calls, or acknowledges Tyler’s postcards that e...

26 likes 9 comments 9
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Magford's Gold

Submitted to Contest #185

And lo they did come These so-called friends Of your good dragon, Magford Who never did bother a soul Now, did he? ‘A Dublin dragon!’ They all said When I first did appear Out of a November storm Wings never furling Fire through my teeth And down below The ministers and the holy people Cliffmongers to the village Of this and that Looking up at me With their bad breath And their fishy eyes exclaiming-- ‘Whomsoever heard Of a Dublin dragon?’ This was back When Dublin was a village And I could make my way As I saw fit Diving down to san...

26 likes 9 comments 9
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Traces

Shortlisted for Contest #185 ⭐️

I sat on the front porch just as the sun was setting. My feet were up on the glass coffee table, and I could see grains of sand stuck around my toes. The chimes that dangled from the neighbor’s patio swayed in the light breeze. Sipping on the Pimm’s my dad had mixed for me, I studied the houses lining our narrow street, admired the trimmed sidewalks, the sandy pathways that led down to the beach. I’d sat here many times, at all ages, all heights, all varying awkward stages of puberty and studied this exact block. Watching families pushing st...

25 likes 6 comments 6
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The Long Goodbye

Shortlisted for Contest #185 ⭐️

CW: Death, grief I couldn’t even bring myself to throw out your mug. It wasn’t even a nice mug. The rim was chipped. The ceramic was lumpy—I was almost positive you’d made it yourself—and for some reason, you’d painted it the color of pea soup. Out of all of your things, this should have been the easiest to get rid of. And instead I stood in the kitchen for fifteen minutes, like an idiot, just holding it, and then I put it back on the shelf. You hadn’t even liked this mug. “I was planning on throwing that away anyway,” I could imagine ...

25 likes 9 comments 9
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Cialden and Kytris

Submitted to Contest #185

Cialden and Kytris died eight years apart. Kytris was the first to pass on, as Cialden was much more robust and healthy. Mixed in with caution and a passion for life, it was always expected to be the way of things. Kytris never really left, and Cialden knew so. He heard her when he was alone in bed. He heard her when the kids came to visit. He heard her in the peculiar way the house-maidens described the eerie feeling of being watched. So it was no surprise to Cialden when his heart gave out one July evening that his beloved was wa...

22 likes 4 comments 4
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Fénix in Finisterre

Shortlisted for Contest #185 ⭐️

Trigger warnings: contained scenes depicting mental health, suicide/self harm, substance abuse, and physical violence. Finisterre, present day Mari Carmen stared at the items she had thrown into this metal barrel which had been set up as a firepit by her hospitalero1. A stack of origami hearts with hidden love letters, a heart-shaped spatula from their spoon carving class, and a home-made pilgrim shell painted with the blues of the sea and the vivid splashes of red and orange representing the sunset she had witnessed moments ago from t...

22 likes 17 comments 17
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Sue & Bernice

Submitted to Contest #185

It was just a museum, an old building with old stuff that no one cared about, sitting right in the middle of town. It was also right where a supermarket could go. No one went to mom-and-pop stores anymore like Bill’s Grocery or Jack’s Supply. They went to SuperMart because it had everything they needed at a low, low price. The town needed a new shopping center. It didn’t need a museum. But to Sue, it wasn’t just a museum. It’s where she met Bernice. Bernice had always been so smart. She was an engineer—and not the kind who worked on...

21 likes 5 comments 5
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