Write a story about a summer afternoon spent in a treehouse.

Posted in General on Jul 27, 2020

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✍️ 327 stories

“Life in the Trees” by Emily Hemmings

Submitted on 07/16/2020

“What did you want to do? Like, in general I mean.” This is the first thing either boy had said in about an hour and a half. Approximately forty-five minutes had been taken up sharing a cold can of beans in the Dulchet’s tree fort. Both the treehouse and the beans were free for the taking, now that Mr. and Mrs. Dulchet had passed away. Waylon and Matthew passed back and forth the can of beans between them in com...

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“The Glass Box” by Nancy Drayce

Submitted on 07/10/2020

The sound of birds caresses my ears; because of the same sound, my heart is bouncing at the same rhythm as the summer song of a free creature that admonishes me with its song. I'm sitting in a small mouldy room muffled with the dense thick canopy of the old oak tree. I wrapped my legs with my thin, pale arms that have very little strength in them. I closed my eyes to allow other senses to take over my body. The smell of sea salt is itching my nostrils while the sound of the waves of the same water is sinking me in...

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“Summer of '83” by Corey Melin

Submitted on 07/15/2020

It was the Summer of ‘83 that I considered as one of the best years I have ever experienced. The five of us just completed our treehouse, and now sat in a circle inside the house on a nice, blue, checkered rug finishing the touch. We all sat in silence as we looked around the room, amazed we did most of what we were looking at. Kids who ranged in age fro...

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“Recreating Memories” by Doubra Akika

Submitted on 07/17/2020

The thing about cancer is that it doesn’t come with a warning. There’s no way to prepare for it before it happens. Like most things in life anyway, cancer ambushes you in many forms and sometimes it feels like there’s no way you can hold it back because there really is no way so, it consumes you and you can’t fight it. Sometimes though, the cancer gives you space to breathe, like just for one moment of your life, you can pretend you don’t have it. The thing is that you don’t know how many moments you’ll have like that before it destroys y...

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“What We Used to Be” by Phebe Emmanuel

Submitted on 07/17/2020

I climb up the ladder nailed to the old tree in my parents’ backyard. The nails hang out of the wood and I give them a worried glance, wondering if they will give way or hold my weight. I’ve put on quite a few pounds since I was last here. The golden treehouse - that we built as a family years ago - towers over me, blocking the sun from stinging my eyes. As I scale the few rungs that it takes to reach the top, the memories of bounding up this same ladder as a 7-year-old girl with pigtails and striped bows flash before me. It brings a smil...

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“Xylophone Players Never Know When to Stop” by Zilla Babbitt

Submitted on 07/16/2020

One. Gloria stomped through the leafy underbrush, past her house and down the red muddy foot path toward the untamed jungle area. The afternoon was new, and the air was cool and quiet. But the humidity was rising and with it mosquitoes and robins, cardinals, and jays. She could see the sky through the patterns of the leaves overhead.

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“The Treehouse” by T.m. Kay

Submitted on 07/13/2020

Sure the floor was crooked and the walls were uneven and had a sheet for a roof that leaked when it rained but it was ours and me and Jimmie built it.It was August, 1945. Me and Jimmie Anderson ran away from home. We were hiding out in our treehouse on account of because Jimmie got grounded. It really wasn’t his fault or nothin. We needed a roof on our treehouse so Jimmie asked his Momma if we could use a sheet and she said it was ok.He got grounded because his Momma told him not to use her company sheets. I guess Momma’s ha...

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“The Man in the Suit” by Nandan Prasad

Submitted on 07/16/2020

The man in the suit walked out of the station gates. He moved to the side of the staircase leading down the station and stood silently, watching the world go about its business.There was the pani-puri seller, his stall at the bottom of the staircase. He was doing booming business, even though it was just after lunchtime.At the opposite corner of the staircase was the balloon seller. He didn’t only sell balloons, though; he also sold wooden dolls, little plane figurines, those long cylinders that exploded into stream...

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“The Trap” by Chris Bent

Submitted on 07/12/2020

Crying came from the treehouse. It was not a child’s crying or a simple sob. It was a sorrow-filled, painful plea; a disturbing moan that raises your hackles and activates rescue mode in a person. It was one pm. The sun was out, but gauzy clouds filtered its shine, hiding any detail of the treehouse. It was late April and a fresh canopy of leaves gave even more shade to the area. From my perspective, there was no rope or ladder dangling from the underside of the shadowed alcove. I left...

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“All Because of the Ladder” by 🐬ᴬᴬᴹᴱᴺᴬ ᴷᴴᴬᴷᴵ🐬

Submitted on 07/12/2020

I sigh, staring viciously at the 10 year old chipped hammer that rests in my sore hands, wishing I were offered nails which weren't as rusty as these. With the sun beating mercilessly on my back, I go back to work. The wood that we have is limited, but we have enough for a treehouse, provided we make no mistakes. I should know because I'm a math geek. That's what makes me different from all the other kids at school. I pounded on the nails, trying to ignore the fact that I'm precariously balanced on one slab of wood that easily breaks. I g...

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“Emotions And Summer Afternoons” by 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕖 𝔻. ❤😊

Submitted on 07/12/2020

I looked up at the ginormous oak tree standing above me and grinned. It was beautiful. But nestled about halfway up the tree sat my treehouse. And that made it the best tree out of all of the trees.Making my way up the ladder, I was starting to get even more excited. This would be the first time I had ever been in it. Dad had just finished it, anyway.When I got to the top, there was a little landing and then a door to get inside. I took a step forward and opened the red door. I frowned; there was another door. Then another.....

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“Treehouses and Friends” by Avery G.

Submitted on 07/16/2020

“Thud. Thud. Thud.” The hammer bounces up and down while I hammer a nail into place. It goes all the way in, but it’s sort of bent.I hammer it on the side, trying to straighten it out, and it works. Well, a little bit.I sit up. I look around at all of my handiwork. Almost done. I thought to myself. I’ll take a break now.I stand up, careful not to bang my head on the ceiling, and use the ladder to get down to the ground. It’s a standard metal lad...

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“Confessions in the treehouse ” by Lenny Kovani

Submitted on 07/17/2020

Everything palls in the summer. Palsy figures , serene minds , rapture! Only the piecemeal crumble of thought will perish that feeling of relief ,oozing your body from every possible hole.And What is truth ,for a somnambulist it’s the dream for the. cynical.But we live our dream in the summer, up in the treehouse that we built ,where we are alone and we feel alive , lying down gazing into the deep oblivion. Our consolidated consciousness resides in a strange yet quite familiar room whose floor shifts when a shaft of...

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“And” by Z. H.

Submitted on 07/12/2020

We both dance side by side in the treehouse. The colour of the ripe April sun washes over us, brushing our ankles in hot ecstasy. Our movements are aligned as our feet tap and slide against the faded wood floor, rectangles of orange light showering over us.He is the first to speak as we twirl side by side, "If you are to say - marry someone. What would they be like?"My muscles tense and the world suddenly becomes blurry. The trees are all I can focus on - thin and lean with pinstripe suits of stripe bar...

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“Ants on a hot tin roof” by Alwyn Mcnamara

Submitted on 07/14/2020

Weed filled cracks snaked through the concrete paths that wound their way though the sparse garden beds that surrounded the sterile nursing home. Resting quietly out in the garden, a wheelchair bound old lady sat staring up at the grey clouds. Her frail body slumped uncomfortably in the chair. Her light grey, almost white hair had been fluffed up to cover her exposed scalp and her skin hung lose and wrinkled. Beside her sat a nurse, massaging her hands. The nurse was young and had a kind face. Soft auburn curls had begun to fall out of he...

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Title: Life in the Trees

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Write a story about a summer afternoon spent in a treehouse.

Submissions are closed!

✍️ 327 stories

“Life in the Trees” by Emily Hemmings

“The Glass Box” by Nancy Drayce

“Summer of '83” by Corey Melin

“Recreating Memories” by Doubra Akika

“What We Used to Be” by Phebe Emmanuel

“Xylophone Players Never Know When to Stop” by Zilla Babbitt

“The Treehouse” by T.m. Kay

“The Man in the Suit” by Nandan Prasad

“The Trap” by Chris Bent

“All Because of the Ladder” by 🐬ᴬᴬᴹᴱᴺᴬ ᴷᴴᴬᴷᴵ🐬

“Emotions And Summer Afternoons” by 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕖 𝔻. ❤😊

“Treehouses and Friends” by Avery G.

“Confessions in the treehouse ” by Lenny Kovani

“And” by Z. H.

“Ants on a hot tin roof” by Alwyn Mcnamara

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story about a proposal.

Write a story about an argument that seems to be about one thing, but is actually about another.

Write a story about a person experiencing pre-performance jitters.

Write a story told entirely through one chase scene.

Contest #50

Enter our weekly contest!

$50

Prize money

1086

Submissions

Win $50 in our short story competition 🏆

reedsybookeditor

Tired of MS Word?

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