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Write a story about someone who defies social conventions.

Posted in Narrative on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 15 stories

Kids

Winner of Contest #2 🏆

When Cassie was sixteen, she had her first boyfriend. They dated for one year. Toward the end of their relationship, the subject of kids came up because one of his cousins had announced that she was pregnant. “Do you want to have kids?” Cassie asked him. They were in his bedroom with the door open. He sat in his desk chair, and she was on the floor, playing with his family’s cat. “Yeah, a couple, maybe three,” David said nonchalantly, eyes still on his computer screen. That sounds terrible, said Cassie’s brain, before she even realized she w...

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The Definition of Normal

Submitted to Contest #2

Elizabeth Marie, or Eliza for short, was many things. A fighter, a dreamer, and an artist. But above all, she was a thinker. More often than not, the time we spent together was spent discussing her latest thoughts on what she called “Social Conventions”. I had never heard of it until she came along. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was hot outside, at least 90 degree weather. I wanted nothing more than to stay inside where the AC was, but my mother had decided I’d be better off outside. She had told me to swing by the local pool, mayb...

9 likes 1 comment 1
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A Hundred Years Old, You Say?  

Submitted to Contest #2

“A hundred years old, you say?”“What?”I speak a little louder. “A hundred years old, you say?!” “What?”I speak louder still. “A hundred years old, you say?!!”“What?” Just then, my grandpa burst with unconstrained laughter. “I heard you the first time, Jenny. It’s just more fun this way. There’s so little I can do nowadays.”“Very funny, Grandpa.” “Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” “So, how does it feel to be turning a hundred today?” “Like any day, Jen. It’s just another number. I feel as I did at twenty, just with more wrinkles and less hair. And a s...

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KUNDA

Shortlisted for Contest #2 ⭐️

One fine morning, Kunda went ahead and shaved off her eyebrows. She did not have a razor but she stole her brother’s without asking him. Looking at her face in the small hand-mirror that hung crookedly from a rusted nail on the wall of their shanty, she washed her face with the apology of the soap pickings she had lifted from somewhere and wiped it with her brother’s dirty towel. Then, with slightly shaking fingers, she applied the razor – the blade was already inside – to her eyebrows and worked her way through till her face became unrecogn...

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So What if it's Different

Submitted to Contest #2

There is a common saying, “Birds of a feather flock together”. As a young girl I didn’t quite understand this and being an inquisitive child, I would ask why each and every time I heard it. Now a mature adult woman, I get it. I do believe that this idea has somewhat changed though, as more and more people broaden their horizons by exploring new concepts.  For the past two years I have been romantically involved with an Indian man. What started out as a few short chats blossomed into so much more than I would’ve ...

6 likes 3 comments 3
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My Dear I Don't Give A Damn

Submitted to Contest #2

I was born into this unenlightened world with an identity people refused to acknowledge. Kindergarten years flew by with me being identified as a girl but Oh! The joys I felt wearing my counter gender’s clothes. I detested wearing frocks, skirts or having long hair. Walking into primary school at the tender age of seven, I had started sporting short hair, much to the dislike of my mother, but still had to draw on female clothing. My chest elated at the thought of being a boy but my mind was equally confused on who I was. At school, I wa...

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A Versatile Man. by Stephen C Berg

Submitted to Contest #2

Vincent van Nezla had a fetish. He preferred to call it a selective desire, but it was more than that. He also liked to party and, when in Paris, did so, with the gay set. His favourite party trick was to sabrage, or ‘neck’, a champagne bottle using a sabre. Most impressive, when done well. His Parisian friends all had fetishes too, of course, which is why he felt comfortable in their midst. Although his father’s head office was in Paris, their factory was in Reims—the family was in the glass manufacturing business. Five hundred years ago, i...

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The Bob

Submitted to Contest #2

Friday nights were always designated family time. For my father, Friday meant a break from his relentless, repetitive, far-too-fiddly factory work. The coins of his wages had scarcely settled in his pocket before they came tumbling back out at the bookies, or the pub, or the counter of the grocer’s as he stocked up on his already more than plentiful stash of cigarettes. It was as though he had a magnet sewn into his pocket lining from which his salary was forcefully repelled on a weekly basis. For my mother, preparation for these Friday...

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When she broke stereotype

Submitted to Contest #2

It is a sweet morning ,the sky is cloudy, the weather is creating a jolly mood as it does during rainy season. Rita is getting ready for the university where she is working as librarian. As soon as she reaches the parking, the rain starts. But as there is a covered lobby to library from parking she manages to get into her office. She begins to check the register to reconcile the books allotment. She is feeling proud as she has won the battle against society which doesn’t want to see working women as they have customs and conventions. When Ri...

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THE OOLACUNTA or WHAT’s IN A NAME?

Submitted to Contest #2

“It’s called a what?” Violet, stared at her friend, mouth open.“James, my fiancé, said it’s called an Oolacunta (ooh-la-cun-tah)....” Annabelle trailed off. Violet was biting her lower lip and her face was rapidly turning several shades of red.“What?” Demanded Annabelle. “What’s the joke?”“Well,” said Violet, learning conspiratorially towards Annabelle, “I mean, the name sounds a bit naughty doesn’t it? Are you sure James isn’t having you on?”Annabelle raised an eyebrow at Violet, who gave her a knowing look in return.“If you prefer,” said A...

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Where have all the Boundaries gone?

Submitted to Contest #2

Have you ever wondered why people behave the way they do? I am amazed at the lack of respect I see in the classroom today. What has happened to society and the norms we expect students and staff to behave like? I wonder what happened in society that causes people to feel so entitled. To behave in such a way that everyone feels they have a right to be heard and listened to? Have we gone so far with our civil rights that we have forgotten how to be civil? Schools across the country are a mess, in many classes a teacher...

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Being Authentically Me

Submitted to Contest #2

I looked at myself in the mirror, frowning. I liked the outfit I’d picked out, I would wear it every day if I could but it mattered more about what other people thought. What would they say if they saw a “boy” walking around with a dress and heels on? I would surely get beaten up or at least get weird looks from strangers. Thankfully, the past few times I had gone out dressed like this was with a group of friends. An old lady glared at me but my friends stood up for me and I was thankful for that. But today was a weekday and all my frie...

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Last Words

Submitted to Contest #2

I slouched at my tiny desk with my fingers entangled in my tousled hair, staring at a blank page showing on my laptop. I couldn't think of a thing to write about. I thought that maybe if I just devoted myself to the task of writing a story, the rest would come easily - but I'd been at this all morning with no luck. I stopped my intense thinking to peruse my notes, searching for inspiration, after which I hesitantly typed a sentence. The sea was calm and the water undulated gently in frothy waves. I looked at it for a couple of seco...

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A Lack of Social Graces

Submitted to Contest #2

A Lack of Social GracesSherri and Roger are good people; in their seventies, a kind and caring couple for the most part. But we all have quirks. They have theirs, and I have mine. You know it’s true. I have never been accused of being a patient man; I can tolerate a ton of shit up to a point, but when it reaches my knees, and I cannot take any more, I become The Hulk. But, I try to do it quietly, and without turning green. I usually don’t embarrass the person I am broiled about, and in so doing, I do not embarrass myself. Most of the time. T...

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Honk and Run

Submitted to Contest #2

"Well, Mike, what's the tally for this week so far? Teresa asked, with a hint of sarcasm in her voice. She then squeezed a lemon wedge all over her pizza slice as her mind wondered over the number that Mike would admit to her. "Slow week, but then school is out. It will pick up again in about six weeks. Just three so far, but there's two more days left to go for this week. Squeezing lemon juice onto your pizza slice is disgusting, you know?" Mike snapped playfully. He smiled as...

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