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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

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

Posted in Dramatic on Oct 18, 2024

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✍️ 116 stories

“The Last Enchantment” by Amanda Willcox

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...

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“Why Kids Love Their Grandfathers” by David Blackburn

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...

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“A Day Ahead of Him” by John Steckley

Submitted to Contest #273

It was just an ordinary day in the making for George – nothing the least bit new or different would happen. But that was the way he liked it. He would get up early in the morning as he did every day of the working week. He needed to do so in order that he could eat his favourite breakfast, which took the chef a while to prepare just the way he wanted it. But first he would dress up in his best clothes, as he felt he would need to continue making a respectable impression on the people who would be seeing him throughout mos...

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“Pecan Pie” by Jennifer Addison

Submitted to Contest #273

I am the second Mrs. Roberts. The new Mrs. Roberts.  The first Mrs. Roberts had a hard time letting go, and not because I had anything to do with their divorce. In fact, I didn’t even know Mr. Roberts back when she was cheating on him and kicking him out of the house for “never noticing how much she did.” Her words. He left because she told him to go. So now I am the only real Mrs. Roberts. But I was also the new Mrs. Roberts because I was still considered new in town. Back in those days, in small, Southern towns like Geneva, Alabama, y...

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“He left” by Sara Pothmann Cullen

Submitted to Contest #273

Things happen in threes, isn’t that what they say. I never gave much credit to the idea, much weight, everything had been so good before. I never needed to believe in luck, good, or bad. Now, I sought refuge in it. I never saw it coming, my first bout of bad luck. I thought we were happy, I truly did. I skipped around our beautiful kitchen, in my gym clothes, with my slick ponytail swishing perfectly behind my back. He went to work at the same time, got back at the same time, and we settled into our usual routine. Dinner, TV, and eventually…...

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“Hell Hath no Fury” by Angela Ewing

Submitted to Contest #273

                                                     2,936 WordsHell Hath No FuryClaire Swanson had just turned fifty-five when she became the office manager of Prouty Classic Car Sales & Leasing in Manchester. She was confident in her abilities to run a small office, although ...

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“Hard Border” by Craig Scott

Submitted to Contest #273

There are poems written about snow. Brzezinski knew this was true because he had heard them from books in his youth. They had belonged to his father, an educated foreigner who entered a government van one day and was never seen again. His mother had brought the dusty books out sometimes from their secret place, after the lights were turned off, and translated them. And more than a few of those stories were about snow – how beautiful it was, it’s delicacy and purity. How it made the world feel clean and new. Maybe snow was different in other ...

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“The Weight of What Was” by EV Throne

Submitted to Contest #273

The forest hung heavy beneath a sky swollen with mist. The road wound like a scar through the brambles and wet stones, narrowing into a thin thread of mud that tangled among crooked trees. The light that drifted through the clouds was faint—more shadow than sky—turning the air into a dim haze that blurred the edges of the world. Orin’s boots pressed deep into the mud with every step, and still he walked. The rain clung to his cloak and skin, soaking through to the bone, dragging at him like an old regret. On his back, the bundle shifted, a f...

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“Endless Windows” by Needs Chocolate

Submitted to Contest #273

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Just a shadow, here or there. No matter how hard she tried to clean off the glass, the grime and streaks kept her at a distance from the world outside. The world which he had warned her would break her heart. "You don't want to see what has happened out there, Persephone. Trust me, please. I will keep you safe." He had promised her. Keep her safe from what? What secret was he keeping from her? She cleaned the window behind his back every ...

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“Psycho Pathy” by Luca King Greek

Submitted to Contest #273

The stepbrother, David, older than me by six years, was a fastidious and fussy teenager. Everything in his bedroom was orderly. His math books were organized by color, his clothing was folded and put away, and his bed was neatly made each morning. He was pathetic and cold, like a fish stranded on dry land; I instantly disliked him, and the feeling was mutual. I thought the marriage a hasty, ill-conceived idea – Blaine Curtis, a goofy Caltech mathematician seemed a poor match for mother – and his son, David, was a definite weirdo, a psycho. I...

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“The Family Journal” by Christie Mack

Submitted to Contest #273

Lena stood at the cemetery's edge, watching the thin line of mourners scatter, their hushed condolences drifting away on the cold breeze. The ceremony had been short, almost perfunctory, but her father wasn’t the kind of man who drew crowds in life, and his death wasn’t going to change that. Lena barely listened to the murmurs of distant relatives and former colleagues; her mind was elsewhere—on her last conversation with him. It had been six months ago. An argument that had escalated too quickly. Her father, with his stubborn, domineering v...

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“Pleasant Valley Premium” by Sarah Jorgensen

Submitted to Contest #273

“It’s so green,” muttered Jane, as the perfectly manicured lawns of Pleasant Valley glided past the car window. “They must pay the gardeners a fortune.”“Drones,” said Dan from the driver’s seat. “Garden drones.”Jane searched her husband’s face for signs of sarcasm. Even after 3 years of marriage, she still couldn’t tell when he was toying with her.Dan chuckled. "It’s true,” he insisted, nodding his head towards something in the distance, “Look -”Jane followed his gaze to a neatly trimmed, emerald-green nature strip. Hammered into the grass w...

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“Waiting In the Dark” by Jade Lawson

Submitted to Contest #273

The house is empty. Dark now that the sun has set. I could turn on a light. But they give me headaches. Instead I move aside the curtain, letting in the orangey glow from a nearby street lamp. The driveway is still empty. I hate it when Jason is gone. It makes me feel like when you cut an avocado in half. Exposed, browning and rotting, holding my arms out for my other half to be returned. The curtain slips through my fingers as I turn back to the living room. In the dark, I maneuver around the shadowy shapes towards ...

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“Martha's Masterpiece” by Bärbel Morsch

Submitted to Contest #273

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of exploitation, psychological distress, and disturbing revelations. It deals with sensitive subject matter that some readers may find upsetting.***At 702 Warwick Road, a quaint sign shaped like a dollhouse once beckoned visitors: "Experience Martha Bunny's Unique Collection. Open daily. Admission: $1" The promise of wonder and amazement drew crowds from far and wide, each eager to witness the marvels that lay behind the weathered wooden door.Martha Bunny's Museum of Curiosities was the talk of the...

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“The Violent Dream” by Kearstin Foshee

Submitted to Contest #273

Notes/Warnings: Thoughts of suicide, violence, gore, blood, mental health. I sank into the white, fluffy couch, its plush cushions nearly suffocating me with their warmth. My therapist sat across from me, her glasses falling along the bridge of her nose as she peered downward, her pen tapping in a relentless rhythm against her notebook.  “Mave,” she coaxed, “tell me more about your dream.” I swallowed hard, forcing down my rising bile.  The dream had not been one I wanted to relive again, but it had been tormenting me for mon...

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