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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Begin a scene with a non-visual sense. Describe a specific sound, smell, taste, etc to capture your setting, then expand the story out from there.

Posted in Fiction on Sep 29, 2023

Submissions are closed

Sorry, we are not accepting submissions for this prompt as it is not part of an active contest. Make sure you don't miss our next contest by creating your free Reedsy Prompts account.

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✍️ 174 stories

“Life of a Four-Year-Old” by Joshua Taylor

Submitted to Contest #218

I’m a racecar driver winning a race! I’m a dragon, flying through the sky! I’m a… dreamer. Dreams. These were just dreams and I’m transported to my parents’ bed. My eyes are still closed and I feel cold. I grab for the blankets to cover me. I cover my whole body and head with whatever I can grab to try and go back to sleep. I don’t want to wake up. But what was that smell? That wonderful smell. I recognize that. My stomach grumbles. Oh no, I have to pee. But I don’t want to wake up. I hear the clanging of metal and my dog’s nails tip tappi...

2 comments 2
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“Fresh Popcorn” by Andrea Corwin

Submitted to Contest #218

Fresh popcorn aromas taunt me; the back of my throat fills with its taste; my tongue rolls inside my mouth against the cheeks, the roof, and over my teeth, all of which have become sloppy and wet with saliva.  Nostrils flaring, I purchase my movie ticket and rush to the concession stand, above which is a hand-drawn flyer: “Only REAL butter served here.”   The volunteer behind the concessions counter, an older gentleman, smiles broadly and asks what&...

8 comments 8
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“Collage Prank” by Max Phantomhive

Submitted to Contest #218

The stench of sweat filled my nostrils, harsh spikes of floral, and wood mixing in. Move one way and the harsh smell almost resembling nature would make you dizzy. Go the other and flowers hit you like a train, almost knocking you off your feet.  You could practically taste the loud smells if it had not been for the gun powder. The only smell you could taste was sweat, the saltiness constantly abused my tongue. It was hard to keep my mouth closed to stop it.  I was breathing to heavily. One gasp after another. No matter how man...

0 comments 0
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“The old cupboard s ” by Rebecca Maric

Submitted to Contest #218

Once there was an old house down a little lane way in a rural surbub of inner west area.and an old man lived there name voyage and caring for a frail woman Anne one a neighbour smelt a eerie smell of the old house something like not normal.so she called help with police and they arrived in several vehicles.sirens blasted along with freeway and into the lane way where the old house stood and inside voyage refused to let police in the house but they managed to walk in to investigate.and wondered why this old man had a hoard of old cupboard.aro...

1 comment 1
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“THE PRIVILEGE OF HAVING A SOUL” by Susan Catucci

Submitted to Contest #218

***Potentially Disturbing Themes Involving Mental Illness***In the pitch black of time and space, I think I know three things.  I am in a stranger’s car.  I don’t know where I am going. I can barely breathe but I dare not move. The moldy blanket that covers me ensures my breathing will be shallow because I’m afraid I’ll gag if I take in its dank, suffocating stench. I might make some sound. The last time I did, he threatened to hurt us. So, I focus my efforts and attention on keeping the kitten nestled...

4 comments 4
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“Dad's Party” by Tina Gasperson

Submitted to Contest #218

I ventured out of my room and heard splashing and yelling in the backyard pool and a cacophony of laughter, and various groups of people each trying to outtalk the others. The stink of nasty menthol cigarettes hung in the air and there were strangers holding drinks or cans of beer and everyone seemed to be having the best time. I wasn’t really into all the noise but as a somewhat atypical teen girl who had just learned how beneficial rebellion could be, I did find events like these at our home an opportunity to see what kind of trouble I ...

2 comments 2
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“The Ghost of Windrush” by Emily Grice

Submitted to Contest #218

The clanking and groans of the ship cutting through the grey North Sea provided the beat to a woman’s melodic humming as she soothed her child. Her fingers trace the rounded cheek of a little girl, whose head lolloped in sleep and whose nose made soft snores. A boy who could be fourteen or fifteen, watched the woman tilt her face to capture the spray of seawater, which found its way through cracks in the porthole. Perhaps the woman he watched remembered her faraway sunny home, as her mouth curled up. The salty taste of the sea, mixed with th...

2 comments 2
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“The Frankenstein Is My Charm” by Angela Govender

Submitted to Contest #218

A strong stench of rotten eggs filled the air. As hydrogen sulfide sneakily invaded our lungs, all those commuting with the bus became nauseated. In the 45 minute commute, we were hit with a noisy smell that overpowered our senses, making it feel like a never-ending ride. Fetid, acrid and frowsty! In an effort to ward off our Monday Blues, we entered the bus with huge grins on our faces. Imagine riding in a bus that smelled of rotten eggs on Monday? Who would have thought that this would make for a memorable Monday? Certainly, today is a day...

2 comments 2
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“10_6_contest entry” by L Kuro

Submitted to Contest #218

Sensitive content note: Death referenced and some mildly icky imagery. Different species don’t smell the same when they’re dead. A long dead chicken that your dog found and rolled around in before jumping on you and your last clean shirt has a sticky, oily scent. A recently dead horse that you need to somehow load up into the back of a pickup to get rid of has a tinge of rotten grass to it, similar to a damp pile of grass clippings going rancid, at least at first. It’s like if you took a bunch of cheese slices from a charcuterie board; eac...

2 comments 2
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“That Bread. Baking, Still. ” by Joe Smallwood

Submitted to Contest #218

“Sorry, what did you say again?”It was my mother, dressed up, me in an itchy tie and starched dress shirt. This wasn’t going to be fun.“Why do you always bake bread before an open house?”A simple question, maybe she might answer. She would fill the house she wanted to sell with this fantastic smell of baking bread, then take the half-baked bread and discard it."Enough of that!" She would say, laughing, just before clients would arrive. "No need to feed people!"But today, no smiles, no joking. It was all about the brochures that I made and ho...

3 comments 3
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“Tossed ” by Bernadette Beauchamp

Submitted to Contest #218

A combination of fluff on top of hardness told Emma she had passed out on the floor when she started to become aware of her surroundings. Wet, sticky warmth slid down her neck and a void of ringing filled her ears. “I must have hit the back of my head,” she thought. These details were all she could manage. How she got there was so far away and exhausting to remember. Her body in the present would be easier to check in on. From top to bottom, just like when she would fall off her bike as a kid. Head, pounding, arms, moving fine, legs, moving ...

7 comments 7
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“Poprocks for the Soul” by Shawn Leader

Submitted to Contest #218

A feeling, like walking into a sunbeam but a thousand times more and instead of coming from the outside it’s coming from within. I can’t see a thing but it feels like purple. I can’t hear a thing, but wait maybe I can… it’s like a thumping sound, familiar but far off like I’m underwater and it’s on the surface. The edges of the sound are as blurred as this feeling. Expanding in waves from my heart with tiny exploding tinglies on those undefined edges like Poprocks for the soul. It’s as if some glorious giant spilled a glass of awesomeness on...

2 comments 2
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“It All Begins At Chapter One” by Megan Spencer

Submitted to Contest #218

A rather throbbing beat rings in your ears as rain patters across a cobblestone path. Your boots make a slight thud, a minor squeak from the rubber soles against the hard stones. The sound of sloshing water as you walk. Light tapping hits your raincoat as you toss your hood on in haste. Even in your raincoat and boots you can feel the cold, wet rain trying to seep into your skin. A yellow warm light draws your attention down the cobblestone path to reveal a hidden bookshop sitting at the end of the dark alley. The smell of the alley is cold ...

1 comment 1
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“Blue Crab Soup” by Adam Alonzi

Submitted to Contest #218

Touch them and they will die.  A gust of French tarragon graced his nose, breaking his otherwise all-consuming lavender entombment.  Such fussy roots.  But they are worth it.  The knob, textured like a Baroque fixture, caressed his fingers like a hollow Gorgon's head, encrusted his palm with an ancient residue—the kind that accumulates in bathrooms shared by brothers.  Streams of formless heat, like a sauce that still smells only of steamed milk, encircled his temples as he groped in the dark for another wa...

1 comment 1
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“Echoes of the Afterlife” by Dev Solovey

Submitted to Contest #218

The musty smell pulled Jethro out of his nap. A thin sheen of condensation coated his skin, residue of the muggy air that dampened his clothes and made his skin sticky. Sounds of dripping water echoed off of cavernous walls, turning small plips into cacophonous clangs. His old joints complained about the rigid, weathered wooden bench he was seated on, and he adjusted himself out of discomfort. He tried moving, only to feel himself rock with the motion in a way he hadn’t expected. He heard the swish of a paddle pushing through water, and he r...

1 comment 1
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