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Write a story that hides something from the reader until the end.

Posted in Dramatic on Oct 18, 2024

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✍️ 109 stories

Afternoons with Martin

Submitted to Contest #273

Okay, just so I don’t forget…His name is Doctor Martin Gatsby. He’s tall and a bit lanky, his gazelle-like legs took huge strides when he approached my bed this morning. His slightly loose navy-blue button-down shirt hung over his jeans in that effortless yet posh way, and when he sat down next to me, I was cocooned in the smell of the Woolacombe sea breeze I had to leave behind for university in London two years ago and petrichor. When he greeted me hello and extended a large hand, oh how his peridot eyes sparkled along with that half-moon ...

67 likes 89 comments 89
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The Unravelling

Submitted to Contest #273

I wasn’t surprised when they told me Danny had vanished from sight at the retreat. It felt inevitable ever since he embraced meditation to escape his everyday existence. Sure, life can be tough, but I felt forsaken, jettisoned like cargo from a sinking vessel. Christie had spotted the signs and suggested we kept diaries during my pregnancy. Trust me, darling, she’d said, knitting her brow. Journaling will keep you both sane. As a mother of four, Christie said it had saved her marriage time and time again. * * *I discovered Danny’s diary...

41 likes 15 comments 15
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Piccadilly

Shortlisted for Contest #273 ⭐️

Middle carriage. The one I enjoy most and the one people avoid most. There must be a widespread belief that the middle is the busiest. Life’s examples of Bell curves, I suppose. The train pulls up, so I take my waiting spot on the platform like a responsible citizen. I feel my armpits sweaty, so I keep my arms close, just in case.The breaks are applied, and I’m perfectly aligned with the door. Years of the same job, same route, same carriage work wonders. Sometimes I play mental games to measure how far I am from the split between the doors....

41 likes 23 comments 23
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Son of Satan

Submitted to Contest #273

I awoke to a bright light streaming through a crack in one of the wooden boards I had put up, in a paranoid, booze- infused haze. It was June and the heat was stifling. My mouth was the kind of dry where your cheeks and lips stick to your teeth, the leftover taste of alcohol offensive. I sat up slowly, the usual nausea kicking in, my head pounding, room spinning. I looked down at my shaky hands, trying to steady myself as I half rolled off the couch, a sweaty silhouette of me left behind, my t- shirt stuck to me. I stumbled to the kitch...

30 likes 5 comments 5
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My best friend

Submitted to Contest #273

“Remember at school, around second or third grade the teacher always prompted the class, with; I want you all to write an essay about your best friend. Title the story; My best friend!” He paused to reflect and visualize the small boy in the third-grade classroom, as the teacher announced the exercise. He continued. “The prompt by the teacher normally ignites excitement in the class. The children are eager, and proudly write and describe their declared friendship and devotion, perhaps to a classmate, and hope the same feeling is re...

27 likes 31 comments 31
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Down The Dirt Road

Submitted to Contest #273

It was a beautiful sunny day in late summer and young Danny was preparing for a bike ride down the dirt road that went alongside his house. The route traversed back into the depths of the valley for about five miles until finally coming to an end at an old farm. Very few houses lined this dirt trail and there weren’t any other children that lived in the direction he was headed. But, being an adventurous ten year old, he was just off to explore as he loved to do and do very often.Danny’s older sister Lisa watched from her bedro...

25 likes 6 comments 6
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Ding, Dong…

Submitted to Contest #273

Mary Jenkins lived alone. This was not by choice, but by circumstance. Her husband, Patrick, died young, leaving Mary in a house on five acres just outside of town. In the early days of her widowhood, she hid from the world there, nursing her broken heart, keeping to herself. As time passed, it became habit, until, at sixty-three, she enjoyed her own company more than she endured the company of others, causing the children to call her the Witch of the West. No one knew her well enough to call her wicked.Mary’s life had been spectacularly une...

25 likes 12 comments 12
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Mature

Submitted to Contest #273

I stride in with my chest puffed out. The room is small, stuffy, walls splattered with different paints and posters. It's difficult not to feel insecure. I had spent a good thirty minutes on my fit- not that I had much to work with- and managed to pull together a black denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off accompanied by navy cargo shorts. Everyone turns to me, a little shocked."I saw the flier. You wanna drummer?" A beat of silence follows."How good are you?" The guy who responds is probably around 20, 25. He's smoking, sprawled across a...

23 likes 6 comments 6
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Between You and Me.

Submitted to Contest #273

Trigger Warning: Death, Grief.The coffin wasn’t right. Austin raced through a mental checklist, assessing each detail of the wooden box before him. The ache in his shoulder confirmed it was oak. It’s dark stain contrasted beautifully with the purple flowers arranged on top. The curved, brass handles followed the lines of the timber perfectly. Everything was as she had specified, so why did it look wrong? What was out of place? Then it hit him, it was the trim. His eyes widened in realisation. It had the right swirls and beads, but the patter...

21 likes 8 comments 8
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Jack the Ripper

Submitted to Contest #273

The police car sped past on the road outside, siren wailing and lights flashing.Jack gasped. They were onto him; he didn’t have much time. He had to make as many as possible for Them, didn’t they understand that? Still clutching the juice-covered butcher’s knife, Jack ran to the window and peered out.The car screeched to a stop before his neighbour Sam’s house. Two police officers burst out of the vehicle. They ran up to the door, hands on the butts of their weapons, heads twitching from side to side. The front door swung open before they co...

21 likes 10 comments 10
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Harrowed

Submitted to Contest #273

When Ellis first moved to the small town of Windham Crest, he could tell that something felt off. The town wasn’t unlike any other small old town, with its old-fashioned main street, worn signs, and old-looking buildings. But it was the chill in the air and the eerie silence that seemed to befall the town that brought the unease that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Ellis told himself it was just the stark difference from the big city where he used to live. The town was exactly what he had been looking for: somewhere unremarka...

19 likes 3 comments 3
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Creature Unknown

Submitted to Contest #273

Creature UnknownI’m running as fast as I can. I’m running so hard that I think my chest will explode, my lungs ripping to shreds. I trip over my feet, stumbling but not hitting the ground. I’m running through a very dense forest. You can only find game trails in the region where I decided to hike. This area of forest is raw, wild, and untouched. Normal people would not go this deep into the forest, hiking these massive hills with little valleys that hug the steep inclines. Why, oh why, did I decide that this was a good idea?! Curiosity?...

17 likes 0 comments 0
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C’est la Vie

Submitted to Contest #273

The ancient vendor lifted a plastic sheet from his wares that lay on top of an even more ancient, if that was possible, olive-drab blanket. Ashes fell from his reeking Gauloises onto the faded US initials in one corner of the blanket. The old man looked up, his eyes hooded in the sort of contempt you’d expect from a dusty peasant trying to eke out a living with a display of mostly junk to a goofy smiling, and obvious, American tourist.  “Hi,” said Mark. “I mean ‘bon jour’” At least he was trying. The tourist guide said the French apprec...

17 likes 4 comments 4
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The Last Enchantment

Submitted to Contest #273

At sunset the king's men arrested Sereneth. They'd found her at last. She'd expected they would. After all, the first method of estimating the intelligence of a ruler was to study the men he has around him. His masters-at-arms were not fools. Must have been the neighbours who gave away her identity when she'd saved the life of that last family’s newborn baby boy. Oh, how fickle is the temper of the populace! It is so easy to persuade them of a thing but it is hard to fix them in that persuasion. The people had, no doubt, been handsomely rewa...

17 likes 0 comments 0
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Why Kids Love Their Grandfathers

Submitted to Contest #273

        WHY KIDS LOVE THEIR GRANDFATHERS                              By David Blackburn My grandparents were cattle ranchers in West Texas. My grandfather's grandfather moved to Texas in the early 1840's when Texas was still a nation; he built a ranch and a family that endured for many generations and was the foundation for our values of hard work and e...

17 likes 0 comments 0
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