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Write a story about a cherished heirloom that has journeyed through multiple generations.

Posted in Short Story on Jan 17, 2025

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✍️ 49 stories

Air-Loom

Submitted to Contest #286

Jeffrey walked to the basement, he stopped to look at that old tarp covered machine, that his great grandfather built and was handed down. His father had told him about it when he was a kid. It did not look like much. It was an old piece of junk. He walked over to the deep freeze to grab some meat for dinner.Jeffrey had a simple life. He had a job at the local bank, and never married. He fed Sylvester and grabbed his jacket, walked out the door and proceeded to begin another day of exactly the same thing.He took his car keys out of his pocke...

56 likes 42 comments 42
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You're Like a Book with only One Chapter

Submitted to Contest #286

"I cried out, Bingo, and this is what they gave me." Aunt B pointed to Nick, a five-foot-tall stuffed Santa Claus. "I just wanted cash! The Idiots!"I love watching Aunt B rant and rave over the infamous slight perpetrated by a misguided Bingo hall. Never mind that it's been over twenty years. She drags old Saint Nick from the attic for anyone who hasn't heard the story. Heck, even for those who have heard the story. Aunt B isn't picky.Nick has been in the family longer than I have. The day after Halloween, he takes his place in the corner of...

41 likes 23 comments 23
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The Carpenter Piece: A Tale of the Arts Department

Submitted to Contest #286

“The ‘beast’ secession, offspring of the ‘dragon' Slavery, drawing in his train a third part of our national stars, was pierced with the deadly wound which could not be healed. It was the combat between Michael and Satan of Apocalyptic vision, re-enacted before the eyes of the nineteenth century…”Francis Bicknell CarpenterProfessor Thomas Skillruud was vaguely aware of the concept of Yelp, and, like so many conventions of the Information Age, he regarded it with the same disdain as Twitting and TickTock dancing. He could not and, if pressed,...

38 likes 18 comments 18
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Those Darned Socks

Submitted to Contest #286

Those Darned Socks“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”-Hector UrquhartIf Tom Zachery had better stuff that brisk fall day in the Bronx in 1927, none of this might have happened. Working out of a full windup, he delivered a fastball right down the pipe, but the batter showed little interest. Zachery felt he got away with one and threw the next pitch high and out of the strike zone. With only one more game remaining in the season to get it done, the overflow crowd could almost feel the tension and the power in the batter’s grip as the ...

25 likes 4 comments 4
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Heir to the Ring

Submitted to Contest #286

Ethan slouched against the cool leather seat, as a cacophony of reporters’ voices crackled from his phone. The screen displayed a news broadcast overlaid with a photograph of a stern-faced man: Thomas Scott, the wealthiest individual on Earth and CEO of Scott Industries. Bold headlines scrolled beneath the image, declaring his unexpected death earlier that morning. A poised news anchor appeared next. “Thomas Scott’s sudden passing leaves a power vacuum at the world’s largest conglomerate. Known for dominating industries from defense manufact...

22 likes 2 comments 2
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One True, Good Seed

Submitted to Contest #286

Once, a kind and hard-working young man met a determined and faith-filled young woman. They thought they’d like to grow a garden together. The two came in possession of a single, small heirloom seed. It was a humble beginning, but trustworthy counselors assured them it was a good seed — the kind whose desirable qualities had been carefully preserved and passed down from one generation to the next. Leading with faith and intuition, they planted their seed and began tending to it. They were new to growing plants and sure to make mistakes, so t...

17 likes 7 comments 7
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The Book

Submitted to Contest #286

“There are few things in life that can bring you closer to your personal history,” Thomas Buckeye told the class. He picked up a book of poetry and held it high. Every member of the class stared at the book.“This has been passed down in my family since it was published in 1773. I would love to say the author, Phillis Wheatley, was a relative or at least a part of my lineage, but the only relation to me was the fact we shared a heart.”Thom paused briefly and continued, “Who enjoys reading poetry?”Half the class raised a hand, a few tentativel...

17 likes 1 comment 1
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The Painting

Submitted to Contest #286

I jumped up, awakened by a loud scream. This scream was so piercing that it echoed throughout the house. I ran down the stairs, not looking where I was going. My wife was slowly walking up to me. Her deathly pale face and empty gaze could have frightened anyone.“What happened, Grace?” I asked.She walked past without paying any attention to me.I climbed to my room and thought about what to do next. This had been going on for a week.I glanced into my wife’s room. Grace was dancing to the music that was playing in her head. We used to sleep her...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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The Choice

Submitted to Contest #286

The cottage sat under a silver moon, its ivy-covered walls whispering secrets carried by the wind. Olivia Thompson sat in her room, her fingers tracing the delicate carvings on the wooden music box. The faint whisper of a melody played in her mind.“Beyond the blooms lies the key,” the voice had said last night. The words refused to leave her thoughts.She opened the music box again, the haunting tune filling the air. But this time, something was different. A new sound—a faint clicking—emanated from the mechanism. Olivia leaned closer, holding...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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Tougher Stuff

Submitted to Contest #286

TW: Violence, gore, ableist speech, strong languageWe’d been driving for ten minutes before the old man spoke in a voice that screamed of a lifetime of chain-smoking, “Where we headed, boy?” I’d been asking myself that same question for days, and the answer remained elusive, but I had to respond, “As far as you’re willing to take me.”“Well, that don’t really tell me nothin'. How long were you waitin' for someone to stop for you, anyway?”“Um, not too long. Some cars drove by me without stopping. I had better luck hitching with truckers.”...

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Our Grandfather's Clock

Submitted to Contest #286

My wooden body hides within a prism of history. My bronze face attempts to be concealed behind the glass. Many look at me and wonder why a metal symbolizing mediocrity was picked to be my visage. The simple answer is that is all we had. Matter of fact that’s all he had.  My builder, my creator, and my father was a man who had an affinity for members of my family and members of his own. My cousins are worn around the wrists of the labor men whose fathers knew his personally. My father wanted a challenge, so he made me out of the trees an...

14 likes 3 comments 3
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The Golden Cat

Submitted to Contest #286

Disgrace has finally come after me. After several years of failed opportunities and increasing debts I was left to live in solitude at my old family’s house in a remote village whose name remains in obscurity. Raul, the closest family I had at the moment was driving into the long dirt beaten road until he stopped to ask: “Are you sure it’s here?”I nodded and we continued driving. It was a foggy morning and nothing else could be seen besides the forest that surrounded us, full of trees, bushes and strange creatures. At the end of th...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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The Heirloom Heist

Submitted to Contest #286

In the small, sun-drenched town of Willow Creek, nestled between rolling hills and fields of wildflowers, stood a quaint little bookstore named “The Book Nook.” This beloved establishment was home to a treasured heirloom—a beautifully bound copy of “Pride and Prejudice,” its cover worn but its pages still crisp. The book had been passed down through generations of the Thompson family, each member adding their own story to its rich tapestry, and it was rumored to contain a secret that could change everything. The book’s journey began with Ele...

11 likes 3 comments 3
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The Angel on Top of the Tree

L J

Submitted to Contest #286

Memories of the past came into view. Katie was five years old and sitting on the floor of her grandparents house. It was Christmas and the house smelled of apples, cinnamon and turkey. She always got to lick the chocolate brownie off the beaters! A great treat! She would listen to Christmas carols playing on the stereo and saw her grandma smiling at her. "Okay, sweetie, it's time to put the angel on the top of the tree! " Gramps picked her up as gramma carefully handed her the angel. She reached up to the top of the tree and set the angel on...

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Home

Submitted to Contest #286

“Is this --?” “It is,” Denise said as the protective wrap loosened to view a face I hadn’t seen in years. Elena was grown up now. The tassels of her graduation cap tickled the top of my head. “Maxine!” Elena hugged my porcelain form against the dark robe. “I haven’t seen you in years!” “This bird has made the rounds through the family,” Denise said. She gently ran a finger down my smooth back. “She belongs to you now. Maybe she can keep an eye on the patients.” Elena held the bird out, smiling. “Hello, Maxine. It’s great to see you again. B...

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