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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write a story about waiting — but don't reveal what's being waited for until the very end.

Posted in Nonfiction on Oct 26, 2022

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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✍️ 323 stories

“Wanderlust” by <inactive> .

Submitted to Contest #49

You sigh, not for the first time in the last hour. Your eyes sting from all the tears you’ve cried today. You can’t comprehend why your life has to be this complicated. Your father always said that if you did good things, good things come back to you. Well, wasn’t that exactly what you were doing? You work hard on your school and club activities, and your test results weren’t too bad either. You are an A- student and everyone compliments your music club for having you in it. Wasn’t all that good? Didn’t you deserve to at least have a ...

17 comments 17
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“Falling in love alone” by Audrey Winter

Submitted to Contest #49

I dreamt of you the other night. You took me into your arms and held me close. I hid my face in the darkness of your chest. I haven't seen you in years. From the very first moment my eyes met yours, you made me feel nervous. In that conference room, where I would see you once a week for half a year, you seemed so serious. I was shy back then and I barely ever spoke. I would glance over at you, or look at you when you were speaking to the group and I would take it all in, your face, your intelligent eyes and warm voice.The...

33 comments 33
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“Joel” by Zea Bowman

Submitted to Contest #49

As the allotted time draws near, the steady summer heat becomes far less bearable; I want the air conditioning of the mall, not the filthy downtown sidewalk. I can't sit on the burning tarmac, so the best I can do is prop myself up against the lamppost, letting my eyes move over the scars in the paintwork. I run my hand over the rough paint and feel my insides squirm in a way they haven't done since the last job interview I went to.I wonder what this Joel will be like. I don't know his age, what he drives, or whether he likes the kind of mus...

12 comments 12
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“Walking Ash” by Kathleen Doidge

Submitted to Contest #49

My lungs burned, scorching a hole inside my chest. For all I knew, my breathing sacks were eating my heart. It would explain the pounding that gave the speed of light a run for its money. Prison guards screamed behind me, and I forced my lungs to go harder. They were what allowed me to run. To try and escape. The battle between my heart and lungs would have to wait. Branches and thorns attacked my ankles. My thighs. My cheeks. I didn't care. I needed to get as far away from those guards as possible. Another shout thundered against my eardr...

5 comments 5
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“Friday” by Surabhi Maheshwari

Submitted to Contest #49

It was a gory moonless night, tranquilized with inky black, but all our eyes could attend was red. We were enshrouded in mist. The red flowing in the soil was reflecting the somber starless sky owing to frequent shots of wandering ignitions. We were invisible, some of us behind the unending ocean of black and brown trees, some of us under unsettled broken tanks and the remaining hapless ones veiling the corpse of unknown. Gratitude to the ceaselessly increasing fog, none of us was visible to none of us. We were spread like the watermelon see...

18 comments 18
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“Voices on the Ocean” by Lindsey W

Submitted to Contest #49

It was hard not to appreciate the beauty of the water: the way it lapped against the shining rocks, and how the sun danced off the gentle waves. The breeze was rippling across the surface and biting at Lauren's face. Her eyes watered from the cold air that surrounded her on the cliff. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter around her, but the wind ripped straight through the fabric, chilling her to the bone.But she was still content. Happy to just be here, away from the city and the world. Tucked into her own corner of the universe. Her old famil...

6 comments 6
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“Besieged by Regret” by Charles Stucker

Submitted to Contest #49

 Besieged by RegretDust hangs heavy in the dry, hot summer air. Motes of it dance in sunlight which streams through cracks in the armory roof. Before me, a dwarf in a heavy leather apron, marred by little burn marks characteristic of smith's apparel, tries to explain about the crossbows. "Any apprentice can make three decent cords in a day. Problem is, we sent most of them off with the others as can't fight.""So we won't be able to span many of these bows?" I'm only asking to take my mind from the sense of dread. The king assigned me th...

8 comments 8
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“Karmic Wait” by Vimal Rao

Submitted to Contest #49

Milenza Prison, Some where deep in the INDIAN JUNGLES -1961“It’s time, Kabir.” The warden spoke,leaning on the door, his voice mildly reverberating in the lonely cell-number 251.“Come on now, wake up. Don’t want to be late for your judgement day, eh?” pressing his voice a little more and clanged his lathi on the wall a couple of times like an alarm bell.A few minutes later, the warden along with his prisoner, walked along the dimly lit passage way that had cells on either side. It was quiet and the only sound that gave them company was ...

21 comments 21
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“Enduring the Abyss of Time” by Erick Morin

Submitted to Contest #49

Time slows when the ability to quantify it is no longer available. Each moment of my life moves reluctantly through each phase, the short tick from the hand moving around a clock. I find myself on this street corner preparing for the juncture that comes next. I reach into my pocket, but I don’t have my phone. I was sure I grabbed it from the counter in the kitchen, but I was in a hurry, it must still be there. Murphy’s law hangs over my head, a gray cloud ready to burst. I look around, the familiarity of the street escapes me. The anticipati...

5 comments 5
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“The Sound of Sunset” by Courtney Haynes

Submitted to Contest #49

“Mr. Hawkins.. Mr. Hawkins.” The old man’s white pupiled eyes stared out at the horizon as if waiting to see something.“I told you to be here at 6:30,” he said to the sky.“It’s 6:28,” I shyly said back.“Exactly, it ain’t 6:30. I tell you to come at 6:30 you come at 6:30. None of this showing-up-early mess. You ain't gonna get paid extra for showing up early if that what you were thinking.”"I wasn't thinking that, sir.""Well, good."“Do you want me to leave and come back?”“Nah, what kind of silliness is that. You might as well get started...

13 comments 13
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“The Execution” by Jonathan Blaauw

Submitted to Contest #49

    London, May 19th, 1536.The endless wait was agonizing.    Gerard sat alone in the dark, his troubled thoughts and his burdened conscience his only company. The coming dawn would bring with it an ordeal the very thought of which made him feel ill.    The execution was scheduled for first light.    While Gerard silently bemoaned his fate, he was painfully aware that he’d brought this on himself. The time for denial had passed, he was about to come face-to-face ...

14 comments 14
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“Love, Eternal” by Christopher G

Submitted to Contest #49

The walls are painted white. Too white that it makes me uncomfortable. It reminds me of being alone with no one to catch you when you are falling. But if it was blue or some other color, I probably would just find other fears to attach to the simple color of the wall. I can deal with the floor because it seems more tangible. I can feel it beneath my feet, when I walked into the room, signed in, and sat on the cold, hard chairs. I can at least still feel the floor, to let me know that I won’t fall into a bottomle...

6 comments 6
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“So not a goanna” by Tim Law

Submitted to Contest #49

The knitting needles went clickety clack, clickety clack. Her grey, wispy hair blew gently in the air conditioning. A happy smile played across her wrinkly face. There was a whoosh as a juggernaut locomotive pulled in to the station. Grandmother Pamela’s knitting was carefully placed back into her calico bag before she leapt to her feet with a sprightly leap. “Is it my special visitor, Station Master?” Grandmother Pamela asked sweetly. “So sorry, Grandmother Pamela,” apologized the old man wearing the brown Station Master’s cap. “Is this not...

10 comments 10
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“Snow” by Zan Lexus

Submitted to Contest #49

They were going to come back.             Snow circled a small, unfamiliar den, ground hard and cold on her paws. She wrinkled her muzzle at the harsh smell, one she could not quite place, but seemed to be coming from the glinting caged walls. A den made by the alfas that walked around on two feet.             Strange dogs paced and barked from other dens all around her, all separated from each other by the glinti...

11 comments 11
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“Morning Coffee” by T.M. Kay

Submitted to Contest #49

Tucker Floyd checked the time on his wrist watch thirteen times as he paced around the small kitchen. He closed his eyes allowing the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans to fill his senses. A smile spread across his face and for a moment he relaxed. He opened his eyes and frowned. He looked at his watch.He opened the refrigerator door, looked inside and closed it. He looked at his watch. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the counter. He tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He could still see his...

14 comments 14
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