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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write a story that starts and ends in the same place.

Posted in Short Story on Dec 20, 2024

Submissions are closed

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✍️ 79 stories

“The Weight of Glass” by Alex Marmalade

Submitted to Contest #282

Sam shoved the door open with his shoulder, the hinges squealing in protest. The communal recycling bins loomed in the corner of the car park, squat and unyielding, as if daring him to approach. A bitter December wind whipped around him, cutting through his thin hoodie and biting at his ears.The bag in his hand sagged ominously. A renegade wine bottle had already poked a hole in the side, and every step sent another tin can rattling closer to freedom. Sam sighed. “Hold it together, mate,” he muttered, not sure if he was talking to the bag or...

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“The Cabbage Rabbit” by Kevin Lymer

Submitted to Contest #282

Angela hadn’t walked far, but it was enough to make her realise that she couldn’t easily return for the scarf; despite now knowing that her coat was insufficient for the time of year. She’d parked less than a few hundred meters away but the fear of giving up forced her on. The scarf would have to stay in the glove compartment. This was probably the last time she’d be able see the wind-swept landscape of her youth, and probably the last time she’d be allowed to go anywhere without a chaperone. The doctors had told her that the little Micra wo...

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“The Eternal Clearing” by Mae Julienne Reyes

Submitted to Contest #282

The mist clung to the dense forest, an ever-present veil that dampened sound and light. Tall pine trees towered overhead, their spindly branches forming a natural cathedral that echoed with the occasional rustle of unseen creatures. The forest had no name, or perhaps it had many, lost to time and the whispers of forgotten travelers. At the heart of this labyrinthine wilderness lay a small, circular clearing. In its center stood a flat, moss-covered stone, weathered with grooves and strange carvings that defied interpretation. It was here tha...

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“Fractured Reflections” by Cynethea Cunningham

Submitted to Contest #282

Lydia stood in front of the cracked mirror, an unruly mass of hair spilling across her shoulders like dark ink on an empty page. The reflection staring back at her wasn’t just hers; it was a kaleidoscope of every mistake, every lost opportunity, and every heart that she’d broken. The room was dim, lit only by the fading light of the early evening sun seeping through the sagging curtains.Lydia’s eyes traced the jagged lines in the mirror, each fracture a symbol of her fractured life. The weight of her past decisions felt like a heavy shroud, ...

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“The Water Sprite of the Old Neighborhood” by Xavier Léon Auguste

Submitted to Contest #282

Once Hall the fisherman had finished casting his two nets, he sat on the bank of the small tributary of the River next to his friend Phi. As usual, she refused the coffee he offered from his thermos. That morning, nostalgia overcame him and so he felt like speaking with her about the past fifty years he had lived in that isolated area of the city.The last ten years had seen great changes in the small neighborhood. There was still a small clientele that was loyal to the family-run store. They would regularly stop in to buy a bottle of water o...

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“Closing the Loop” by Vincent H. Black

Submitted to Contest #282

He sat down after a long and tiring day. It was just after midnight as he got home. He felt relieved and yet anxious about tomorrow. So many open points and not much time. The deadline was staring at him without remorse. It was always the same. The timeline was set a long time ago, as always, yet the late nominations and delays nobody considered them and it made it difficult to prepare everything. It was a Friday or, in reality Saturday, it should be a calm day to relax, but not now, not now. Now it was the peak. Every day was a working day....

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“Safe Haven” by Darlene Chaney

Submitted to Contest #282

Trigger warning: Sexual/physical abuse          Winter was underway in Milwaukee as fifteen- year-old Samantha Cunningham stared out of the attic window of the otherwise uninhabited, yet fully staged, two-story house on Mockingbird Trail. The 'model home' had not only become her sanctuary from the cold, but safe haven from the abuse at home. “Mom never believed me,” she said to herself, tears pooling in her sad, green eyes.        In Samantha's lef...

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“Today's the Day” by Camden Cleveland

Submitted to Contest #282

 Today’s the day. Today’s the day things are gonna happen — things are bound to change. 34 years and today’s the day. Monday, 7 in the morning. Shower, coffee, burnt toast, drive to work, small talk, get ignored, work, lunch (ham sandwich, yum!), more work, drive home, pasta and TV. Sleep. Today’s the day. Tuesday, 7 a.m., coffee and toast, work, go home, sleep. Wednesday, Thursday, then (hurray!) Friday. Saturday’s here. It can’t be the day this day, because I need to unwind and build up my energy for Monday, which will be the day, I c...

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“The Sopron Pursuit” by Vera N

Submitted to Contest #282

The sun dipped low over the vineyards of western Hungary, casting long shadows across the rolling hills. In the small town of Sopron, nestled near the Austrian border, time seemed to flow more slowly. That was, until the quiet of the evening was shattered by the sound of screeching tires.Eszter Nagy, a former military intelligence officer turned private investigator, slammed the brakes of her sturdy Jeep as a figure darted onto the cobblestone street. Heart pounding, she stepped out to find a young man sprawled in the road, clutching a leath...

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“Charley’s Angels” by Ian McKerracher

Submitted to Contest #282

Charley sat in his living space looking out at the silent flakes of snow falling past the small window of his basement suite. Some of it got caught in the only branch of the fir tree he could see but most of it ended in the drift against the window-well edge, slowly piling up to increasingly hide the world outside. “If this keeps up,” thought Charley, “Soon I will no longer be able to see much of anything from this place in my world.” The lonely tears forming in Charley’s eyes added to the progressive obscurity. The few bulbs of colored ligh...

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“Love Story” by Vee Medina

Submitted to Contest #282

Love story This was supposed to be a love story. I had it all imagined, all planned. I knew how it would start; with accidental eye contact across a crowded space. They'd be so captivated that even after I glanced away they would continue to watch me. They wouldn't be able to get enough, they'd have to know more, but I'd leave and they'd wonder and think about me and maybe some time would go by and they'd start to forget about the stranger they saw across the space but then right as I began to fade from their thoughts they'd see me again, s...

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“Ghosts' Night Out” by Elliot Stevenson

Submitted to Contest #282

STRONG LANGAUAGEThe air was always so cold in the cemetery, as if someone had left the air conditioning running endlessly on turbo mode. Peter always hated this place, even when he was alive. He kept thinking that once he became a ghost, it would seem so vivid and full of life from the beyond. Instead it was grey, dull and empty. The silence that surrounded the dead was deafening, and this place belonged to the realm of silence. Well at least most of the time. - Hiiii guys, how is everyone? - a tall man's translucent body was ...

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“This Time it's for Ever” by Peter Stanley

Submitted to Contest #282

THIS TIME IT’S FOR EVER They were together. Total peace, absolute calm, seconds drifting in a sea of silence. Now they would never be apart. Never, ever. A door banged shut somewhere else in the hospital, how had all this come about? Peter Sinclair was drunk, he knew that because Eileen, his companion for the evening, had told him so. She had also told him that he was in dreadful trouble, what on earth had he been thinking, getting into such a romantic embrace with his best friends wife. Actually he hadn’t been thinking of anything, he was j...

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“The Middle Of Somewhere” by Fredrich TheFrogdrick

Submitted to Contest #282

Somewhere there’s a bridge. It stands tall, outside a city, over a highway. Its cement is cracked and graffitied. It's beautiful, or at least that’s what they’re thinking as they stand on its edge.Cars rush behind and below them, but, no matter how close the cars get, they don't flinch. All they do is stand, hands on the bridge's fence, and stare at the sunrise. As the clock ticks, they watch the sky’s dark blue mix with reds, purples, oranges and yellows. They stay there, busy staring, busy watching, as the color’s fade to the familiar...

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“The Betrayal” by John Britto

Submitted to Contest #282

The Betrayal The door to the kitchen flew open and hit the side of the refrigerator with a loud thud. Cold air rushed in. “You rotten bitch. I trusted you.” Brock McCarthy stood in the doorway with his shoulders squared and fists clenched. “How could you do that to me?” His nostrils flared as he shook his head. Stunned, Clara Simmons gasped when she heard the commotion. After she regained her composure, she bristled at the hateful accusation. She placed the half-empty dinner plate she was holding in the sink. Staring into his brown eyes, s...

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