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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write about someone who still practices a skill that used to be necessary but has long since been replaced by technology.

Posted in Fiction on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 133 stories

“The Music of Love” by Isabella Sopo

Submitted to Contest #78

Addae’s worn dark hands closed around the covered box. Based off of the online picture, it was old, rust already creeping up the ornate metal designs. It had taken him a while to find the right box, but Addae was glad he had waited.  He hadn’t seen a box like this one since his childhood, back when they were still in use. It was difficult to find a music box, these days. The musical wonders of his childhood had been sold off, replaced with shiny electronic rectangles without buttons or cranks. Addae still preferred the boxes, however. ...

1 comment 1
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“Sword Mage” by Max Arlo

Submitted to Contest #78

“Ok, I get that it’s cool and all, but seriously, there’s gotta be better ways to spend your time.” Adri didn’t look up from the blade she was sharpening. None of the guys she’d brought home after a long night had ever been quite impressed with her homemade forge and collection of handmade weapons. This latest guy’s condescending tone was nothing new. “I mean really, what’s even the point? They’re never going to look nearly as good as one you can get online.” “I don’t really care about how they look,” she finally replied, testing the edge...

5 comments 5
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“Type writer” by Jill Ritenour

Submitted to Contest #78

I found the old box in my grandma's attic. I opened it and saw the books stacked on top of one another. I sat myself comfortably on the creaky old floor that most would go crazy about these days and grabbed one up gently. What was I looking for; nothing more than unknown nostalgia. I did the first thing I always do when I opened the book; I smelled the pages. I realize it sounds incredibly weird. I have often felt if books were people I would fit the profile of perverted maniac, having already sat in front of a jury trying to justify the rea...

1 comment 1
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“The Other Kind Of Urban Farmer” by Florian Wolf

Submitted to Contest #78

"I knew that someday our time would come again," says Adam with a delighted smile on his face.Adam, a modern french man, has a dark red brighter yellow family secret. His long family line was originally — and some lines still are! — native to Montreuil, a suburb of Paris. Back in the day — the 1870s — his family came to fame in this place when they received a large contract from the nice & mighty people of Paris. They were contracted to build a roughly 373 square miles large maze of fruit walls.As you probably know what a maze is, I will...

25 comments 25
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“Tea song” by J YB

Submitted to Contest #78

Eleven. My mother took me. I remember we had to take the bus for a while - we even had lunch at one of those rest stops. There were mountains all around, and everyone was quiet, but there were so many Songs. It was amazing.   I can't remember who did the ceremony, unfortunately. I've been trying to find out for years now.  I'm fairly certain it was Stone Tree River style. I can’t remember the tea itself, but there were chimes and I certainly remember the smell of morning glories in the air... Very shortly after. I begg...

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“Entre Nous” by Heather Stream

Submitted to Contest #78

Being a writer, poet, artist, and lead singer of a rock and roll band was not easy for David. Back in the early 1980’s, hair was the prevalent look-long curly hair and tight spandex-y leather with a vocal range that could break glasses. Guitar solos made or broke a song and young women would buy tickets much to the chagrin of their rocker boyfriends. The 1980’s hair bands were the “in thing”; young women acting like proverbial prostitutes to get backstage to touch or even have sex with one of the band members. When it came time to put out, ...

1 comment 1
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“More Than Imitation ” by Joshua Trockel

Submitted to Contest #78

May 15, 1845 Perfect proportions, down to the last hair. Paul makes a broad stroke with his brush, hardly looking at the canvas. Even the ruffles on the shirt, the half-eaten apple on the table. It was all there. Perfect. A still capture. Another stroke and the body takes form. The couch rustles as his subject shifts slightly. Paul grimaces. “Please try your best to remain still,” he mutters, a faux sweetness in his voice. And it was done with no effort! He leans across the canvas to get a better look at his subject, trying to push th...

3 comments 3
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“Blue Fingerprints” by Kalina Atanasova

Submitted to Contest #78

In the year 5324 A.C. on the planet Cunvinda 55 or something, nobody really knew anymore since all called it Earth 3, Maeve was sketching a small skeleton on a piece of yellowish paper, covered in big strange spots. Her car was advancing slowly in the traffic jam on air lane 34. The car of the 18-year-old girl hovered over the arid canyon engulfed in red sand for so long that the Toyota’s flaking grey paint began to mix with the sands bellow. The line of cars moved, so Maeve forced the engine, squinting against the sun, reflected by the skyr...

2 comments 2
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“Radio Shock Waves” by Chris Buono

Submitted to Contest #78

       Sam’s eyes glued to her as if in a trance. He more or less was, if he were being honest with himself. Walking from his apartment to check the communal P. O. Box stand, he had just sighted an angel of a woman. Brown eyes so dark they were almost black behind thick-rimmed glasses and a plain white t-shirt that hugged the body flatteringly. Her flowing black hair was sloppily put up so that rivulets were picked up and flew in the wind. She wore a pair of black yoga pants. It was the hip sway that entran...

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“Show Me the Way To Go Home” by Kerrie Clements

Submitted to Contest #78

“No, I said turn left onto Craddick Street!” shouted Hannah, “You said turn left, you didn’t tell me the name of the road! I need to turn around now. This is ridiculous!” replied Diane, disconcertedly. “Next time Hannah, we use the Satnav!”. Hannah wasn’t listening. She was too busy turning the map around to figure out which way they needed to turn to get back to where they were. They finally reached The Blue Dolphin, which was a rather small, but posh hotel, on the outskirts of a quaint little village called Handley. They were late, but ho...

3 comments 3
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“Nagerrotay” by Sara Blanch

Submitted to Contest #78

Feel free to call me traditional...or a 'mamma's boy', I've been called considerably worse by people of a much higher status. I am proud to be apart of the Nagerrotay lineage, my ancestors for generations had been famous for our particular ability to tune into the universal energy and obtain the information we needed. For thousands of years the Nagerrotay had been advising the Fae's royal council and those who requested our assistance. When the Fae and the human world had made their initial contact over half a century ago, it had trigge...

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“The Swordsman” by Jordan Uddin

Submitted to Contest #78

Everett made his way to the training room, scowling at the people in the hallway; holding their guns like they were pots of gold. When he got to the room, it was cold and empty. Out of the corner of his eye, Everett saw a new blade placed gently against the wall. He walked over to it, green shoes tapping on the polished wood floor. Everett picked it up, and rolled the blade over on his arm. It was a long spear, maybe three feet? Four? The smell of fresh leather made a home in his nose. It smelt of old shaving cream and macarons. Not ideal, b...

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“In Letters” by Vincent Cruz

Submitted to Contest #78

My least favorite question to be asked is, “what do you do for work?” It's almost as cringe worthy as bringing up the weather.  “Why do you care?” I ask, my veins pumping with hot blood and surging with hatred. “So we can pretend that what I do for a living is interesting?”   I shouldn't be so angry, after all, these people are only trying to get to know me. I’ve certainly been guilty of asking the question myself and there have been countless opportunities to which I have seized the moment to comment on the hovering cumulon...

2 comments 2
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“The Darkroom” by Bobby Bone

Submitted to Contest #78

Darkness is all around us and for half of our lives we live in it and with it. Yet darkness brings fearful and sometimes macabre feelings forth as we encounter it. It permeates our hearts and souls in our emotional states. It is used to describe the future of things to come for those with less positive outlooks to life. It sometimes carries a negative connotation in descriptive terminology. Even physical darkness brings fears to many who encounter it. Children fear the boogieman and adults just fear what they ca...

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“Making Toast ” by Kay Swenn

Submitted to Contest #78

I know it’s silly and pointless and a waste of time and wasteful in general and blah blah blah. I know these things, I’m only ridiculed seemingly constantly for my passion. But I can’t help it. For generations we did these incredible, impermanent works of art, art a person can experience and now people look at it as something not worth the dirt caked on their shoes. My great grandmother taught me one day how to make a simple piece of toast and I was hooked.  I love to cook.  Humanity seems to dwell on progress and efficiency. Nev...

3 comments 3
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