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Write a story about hope.

Posted in Short Story on Dec 29, 2023

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✍️ 78 stories

Koi Under Ice

Shortlisted for Contest #231 ⭐️

Inasaki primary was no more than ten minutes’ walk from my father-in-law's place, small, cramped quarters that were only meant to be our temporary home, but I still had the kids dressed and fed and out of the house by ten past seven. There was a tension in the air that morning, and for everyone’s sake, it was best we were gone before she woke. The kids didn’t need to witness another scene like the one the night before, and I didn’t need to be a part of one.“Do you have to go online and play that stupid game the second you get home? Could you...

58 likes 64 comments 64
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Hopeless Aid Station

Submitted to Contest #231

The thing about going the distance is that it is non-negotiable; you must take every miserable, unrelenting step on your own steam—like it or not. David had his hands on his knees, dry heaving, at the foot of the highest mountain pass in the Colorado Rockies. Dry heaving was nothing new. He could handle dry heaving all day long. David’s Garmin Sportswatch displayed the elevation: 9,983 ft. 2,617 feet to the top. The saddle was 12,600 feet. Should take about an hour and a half, he thought. If he didn’t collapse first.As his stomach eased, Dav...

40 likes 20 comments 20
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Too-Cute Match-Up

Submitted to Contest #231

Too-Cute Match-UpFor the second night Chrissy tucked in the visiting five-year-old, Carlson. He should sleep happier now that the Barbie dream room had been transformed into a space odyssey. The fifth-grade teacher went downstairs in the large Victorian home she shared with her Nana.“Any success locating his parents?” Chrissy asked Nana as she joined her in front of the fireplace.Upon a chance meeting with Carlson and his Grandfather two evenings ago at a local restaurant the grandfather suffered a fatal heart attack without being able to gi...

33 likes 33 comments 33
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Seeds of Gold

Submitted to Contest #231

“There is a hole in his stomach, I think that is where the money goes.” Chico said to the other small boys kicking stones in the alley outside the dingy Public House.  Like Chico, only 5, or 6 years old, the other boys nodded, sensing the truth. They had all known despair, watching their own fathers lose themselves, pouring golden, liquid drinks down their throats. Many of the boys had been sent by their mothers to the Public House to get their fathers to remember they had a family at all, to encourage them to return before all the mo...

22 likes 17 comments 17
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Write a Story About Hope

Submitted to Contest #231

“Write a story about hope.” That’s my creative writing assignment. I have one week to put together a short story about something that’s been eluding me, slipping away little by little like the warm air from a fireplace escaping through an open window until the room is cold.  I wish I had hope. I would love to have hope. To wake up each morning with a smile on my face and a pep in my step instead of heavy eyes and a sense of despair. How can I explain my lack of hope without coming off as melodramatic? I h...

21 likes 20 comments 20
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Dishes

Submitted to Contest #231

Hah, hope, they say. When everything falls down upon all they say, hope. What do I do with hope? Sit down and ponder that everything will be okay. That one day, this screaming pain in my chest shall vanish? No, No, I’ll be damned with hope since I shall not wait but act. I have been a strong man and continue to be. For my mother, father, and sisters. Well no, lets skip father.                    I will be hope.And so, he tried to become hope. ...

18 likes 10 comments 10
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The Pink Car Analogy

Submitted to Contest #231

When I was in fourth grade, my class was shown a video in which an extremely animated young man discussed the importance of being open minded. He proudly explained his pink car analogy- Should one go about their lives as usual, it is unlikely that they will notice very many vehicles of such an unusual color as pink driving down the road. However, should one make an effort to look for them, they will be amazed by the number of unusually colored cars they will be able to point out. In this analogy, he meant to relate the pink cars to kind peop...

17 likes 3 comments 3
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Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Submitted to Contest #231

I set the anthology down on the side table and thought about the words that still lingered in my mind. It was a beautiful piece of poetry and it made me think about hope in a new way. It was always there, whether I chose to acknowledge it or not. I always lost it a bit after Christmas, when the decorations were stripped away and I succumbed to the January blues. I knew I wasn’t the only person to do that. Whenever I walked through a day the colour of granite, I could sense others feelings of depression too. There was a heaviness in the air a...

17 likes 15 comments 15
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Happy New Year?

Submitted to Contest #231

I stare into the bottom of the glass and contemplate the last swallow. Absentmindedly, I swirl the wet tumbler in lazy circles over the bar. If I drain the glass, the question will be whether to order another or leave. And go where? Yes, unlike some, I do have a home with a roof, a bed, hot and cold running water.And echoes.Echoes of someone to come home to, of cold feet to warm, of comfort food to eat, of secrets, jokes, hugs and laughs shared. Of medication and nausea, of pain and helplessness, of fake smiles and false bravery, of promises...

16 likes 6 comments 6
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The Cusp

Submitted to Contest #231

The Cusp     Meg lifted an eyebrow at the bottle of Pinot Noir standing innocently in her kitchen cabinet. She’d been saving it for a special occasion. When was that gonna happen? Ever? Tonight was New Year’s Eve and she was alone. Tonight would have to do. She stood on tiptoe and pulled it out.     Just the weight of the bottle in her hand soothed her. Its cool, polished curve, its narrow, phallic neck. The perfect diameter to wrap her hand around, just enough weight to satisfy, to offer pardon. The...

16 likes 8 comments 8
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The Real Illness

Submitted to Contest #231

He lay inside the pink mosquito net on a rickety bed near the window, pale and thin. He would turn over to the window to welcome the new day. He would do it slowly afraid that the legs of the bed might give in. He did it every morning when the sun came out on the horizon. At night before sleeping, he would face away from the window. It had a benefit to him because when he coughed and needed to spit phlegm, he would just reach the tin can under his bed. It was better than to spit through the window and somebody would spot him. But the coughin...

14 likes 10 comments 10
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Longing to Exhale

Submitted to Contest #231

With tears streaming, I hesitantly packed everything I had in the nearest bag. All the worries and anxieties, the doubts, and unbeliefs, the joy and pain, the love and grief, and traumas and fears, the depression and wonder and hope. I tossed them all in and prayed for the best. With my heart in a sack slung over my shoulder I begrudgingly made my journey. I hoped someone had been listening as I called out, begging and pleading, that I wouldn’t be turned away but welcomed with anything other than pity. I’d rather be rejected and turned away ...

13 likes 3 comments 3
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Greed

Submitted to Contest #231

"It's unbelievable how wealthy one person can be," Rob muttered, his eyes fixed on Richard Manson and his family through the lenses of his binoculars. He was strategically positioned several kilometers away, perfectly placed to monitor the family's every move. "Right? It's totally unfair. But soon, we'll have a piece of that fortune, right?" Steele replied, his voice filled with determination. "Absolutely. They owe us that much, after everything," Rob said, refocusing on the family they had been meticulously surveilling for weeks. Richard Ma...

13 likes 7 comments 7
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A Modest Tale of Hope

Submitted to Contest #231

Hope is not big, momentous, grand; it is not a plumed picture hat, not a coat, not a bag. It is as modest as the boring, old underwear beneath all that glamour, the underwear we somehow manage to change (almost) every day, despite being glued to our beds, losing lovers and friends, and despite unemployment. Margaret rolled over and turned off her alarm, picking out a painful wedgie. She was wearing Tuesday’s pair of underwear for the second consecutive day, one of the six pairs her ex-mother-in-law had sent her for Christmas (Monday was miss...

13 likes 6 comments 6
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The Hardware Fairy!

Submitted to Contest #231

"Dave!" Dave heard his rather chunky wife, Janice, on his phone, just as his day of being a geek solution expert was heading to knock off time. "Yes dear?" he asked quite meekly, "What is wrong?" Dave and Janice had been married so long now, they never wasted small talk on niceties. Like, "How are you? How is your day going?" No, straight to the nitty gritty here. Janice did not take any prisoners. "Flossy and Bossy have broken the toilet seat. You'll have to mend it, or get a new one. This is urgent, they're on their rags again." "Right, I'...

13 likes 3 comments 3
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