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Write a story about two characters who are competing with each other. What’s at stake?

Posted in Dramatic on Sep 26, 2025

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✍️ 49 stories

Sock Baby

Submitted to Contest #322

The Lawyer just sent me the bill, three hundred dates of a bad time. She charges 300 an hour because she’s not the greatest lawyer – and I probably should have been more supportive when she was going to defend that con artist celebrity lady on the news and make the real money. Her name is _xcsdx__, the Lawyer, not the celebrity fraudster. We are still waiting on Russia to tell the real name of that darling but I think xxxx will get her off if they both cry together. It something called Mercy of the Court strategy, and actually works if you g...

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Game, Set, Championship

Submitted to Contest #322

Alexandra’s eyes did not pass over the trophy that stood imperiously upon an altar several rows into the crowd. Nor did her ears flinch at the unearthly din of the crowd that roared as she walked through the tunnel. Cameras flashed, but her eyes remained steadfast. To her, the trophy meant nothing. What was it that made it so hallowed in the eyes of others? Sterling silver, an oversized chalice fit for a giant, emblazoned with words merely ascribing it to a certain championship. Was it not all interchangeable? Had it not been for ceremony, f...

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Death Becomes Work

Submitted to Contest #322

There were 3 things Olive was 90% sure about: She should’ve grabbed a muffin on her way out (her rumbling stomach wasn’t exactly inconspicuous)The guy three seats over was hiding a pigeon in his overcoat (there was distinct cooing)No one was looking for her…yetOlive kept one eye on the pigeon guy and the other on the news app on her phone. “Florida man dons chicken suit before crashing four-wheeler into Starbucks, A woman in Mississippi shoots husband, then goes grocery shopping. 'Ok, nothing out of the ordinary', Olive thought, everything s...

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27086

Submitted to Contest #322

“I’ll go.” I raised my hand in the midst of the crowd. Hundreds of eyes turned to me, causing my cheeks to turn bright red and my skin to go pale. I swallowed hard and stepped forward. “Brilliant!” The announcer said clearly through the microphone. “Number 27086, please step forward.” They knew us all by number, never by name. I would be amazed if anyone remembered their name after being here as long as we have. We had gone from the wrongfully enslaved to now, their form of enjoyment, torture. I took my place in line. I was bigger than he...

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The Weather Girl

Submitted to Contest #322

The sound of crashing waves, meant to calm the mind, blasts through the dead of night. The noise might as well be a freight train barreling through Molly’s tiny bedroom. She programs her alarm clock to the sounds of the sea, hoping it will make her 3 a.m. wake-up call less of a shock. Instead, each wave slams her awake, heart pounding, breath stolen. It takes five minutes of deep breathing to calm down. Humans are not meant to be yanked out of REM sleep in the middle of the night. A fact Molly is reminded of five days a week.Molly Weathers i...

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The Blood Trials

Submitted to Contest #322

The rain never stopped in London anymore. It hammered the skeletal rooftops of Poplar, ran in black rivers through shattered alleyways, and made the square into a slick mirror of mud, shards of glass, and old graffiti. Beyond the city, Canary Wharf rose like a citadel, all glass and steel and electricity, untouched by the rot below. Inside those towers lived the people who mattered, the rulers, the Regents, the blood of the city. The Devils who preyed on the weak, on the poor.And tonight, the city gathered for the Selection. Torches flickere...

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The Sandbox

Submitted to Contest #322

Dear Jordan,If you are opening this, it means I am no longer alive. It means my cancer finally got the best of me, and I’ve been put to rest. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. But I could never tell you. I mean, would you? You’re so full of energy and life and vigour –how could I ruin all that? Anyway, now I’m gone, there’s no one for you to compete with. But I want one last game: my dying wish, if you will. The prize? If you win, you get to beat me, forever. You outlast me. You finally get to triumph over me, even in death, even when ...

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Home Sweet Home

Submitted to Contest #322

Home Sweet HomeSandra lay in the hospital bed, a monitor blinking away by her side. A nurse came in to check on her and she smiled and nodded towards the machine.“I’m perfectly ok you know”, she told the nurse.” I really don’t know why I’m here, and I do need to go home”.Keeping an eye on the lines and numbers, the nurse responded. “Well now Sandra, you fainted, and you hit your head, and I think the doctors want to keep you in overnight, just to make sure you haven’t done any damage to yourself”.Sandra wasn’t happy with the idea and muttere...

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All's fair

Submitted to Contest #322

It was the day before the Homecoming football game. All week long, momentum had been building towards the big day. In a small town like Cedar Grove, things like Homecoming held great sway. The whole town participated. Earlier in the week, perky high school students decorated the windows of the storefronts facing Main Street. They used a special kind of frosted paint to paint the glass in bright colors. We’re #1! Go team go! Beat the Raiders! The students fervently hoped their strident messages would bring about victory. Whatever the game’s o...

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The Dust and the Bloom

Submitted to Contest #322

The Dust and the Bloom​The alarm blared, a jarring intrusion into the soft gray of Elara’s morning. She slapped at it blindly, her hand missing twice before connecting with the snooze button. Six more minutes. Six more minutes of not having to face the day, not having to face… herself.​Elara was twenty-seven, a barista at a chain coffee shop, and utterly convinced that this was her ceiling. Her apartment was perpetually in a state of “lived-in chaos”—a euphemism for perpetually messy. Her ambitions were vague, flickering embers easily exting...

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Convergence

Submitted to Contest #322

Convergence “I have totally lost track of how many times we’ve done this,” Coda said, his left hand hovering over the pulsating green orb. “I’m exhausted and truthfully I’m bored and aggregated.” This wasn’t supposed to be a competition, it’s science for Gods sake, science. It’s for the good of all humanity.” “That’s very noble of you, Coda, but really a bit naive. There’s always been competition in everything. Who would be the first to market with a vaccine, who would solve an unsolvable math equation, who would achieve artificial gener...

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The Bet

Submitted to Contest #322

The sun was setting over the city. Buildings stood towering over the half empty streets. On a fire escape looking down on a rundown neighborhood, a person in worn clothing sat quietly looking on at the passers by. The number of people moving from day to night was about typical. The person on the fire escape watched as the sun slid behind a bank of clouds creating the most wonderful array of colors. Then all of a sudden, a firetruck screamed down the street. The serenity was broken by the blaring siren and flashing lights. Then as the person ...

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The Art Contest

Submitted to Contest #322

On a warm spring day at Yale University, Ariana Preston was fighting for her life. Well, okay, maybe that’s a bit melodramatic. What was really going on was that she was entering an art competition to get her classical sculpture of the Roman god Neptune into the Yale University Art Gallery. Every art student on campus seemed to be running, including her long-time competitor, Sophie Rutter. Ariana’s relationship with Sophie was contentious at the worst of times and motivating at the best. Since freshman year, she and Sophie seemed to always ...

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El Billete Manda

Submitted to Contest #322

The low riders cruised the streets, blanketing dust onto their chrome wheel hubs. Off to the side, La Mala Vida. Distinguished by its collection of choppers resting on it’s curb. The metal grated door, making the bar feel more like a renovated home than an actual establishment. In the back, a singular, dimly lit pool table. A stack of cash lying loosely over the corner pocket. A gathering of Marines, anxiously standing at attention. Before he even pocketed the black eight ball, Rudi was making his way around the table to gather his winnings....

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Around the World

Submitted to Contest #322

I was clickity clacking away on my keyboard, purging ideas out of me at a rapid pace, when my wife who was rummaging through boxes in the closet yells out, “Oh my God!” I got off my ergonomically correct chair and went to find out what caused that reaction from her.“How old were you in this?” holding up a photo directly at me.I grabbed the piece of nostalgia and studied it like a map.“I think fourteen. This was eighth grade.” “You were so skinny. What’s all that writing on the ball? Who took the picture?“My dad took it. I won this ball in a ...

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