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Write a story where a character relives the same event over and over again.

Posted in Short Story on Dec 20, 2024

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✍️ 32 stories

Whiskers on His Chin

Submitted to Contest #282

He shaved on Monday, but never on a Tuesday. If he didn’t shave on Monday, he’d have to wait until the following Monday to pick up the razor. He was a creature of habit. If the habit was disturbed, he punished himself by never rescheduling. Tuesday's tasks were never moved to Wednesday. That was how he trained himself. If he missed, he missed. His hair grew remarkably fast. That meant, if he waited a week, he’d have a beard by the time he could finally shave again. That was why he never missed a Sunday. On Monday, May 13th, Michael shaved a ...

27 likes 8 comments 8
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LOOPS OF INK

Submitted to Contest #282

Kayleen sat hunched over the kitchen table, the blue glow of her laptop casting ghostly shadows across her face. The screen illuminated a blank page, a digital abyss that seemed to mock her with every rhythmic cursor blink. Her throat tightened, her breath uneven. The air in the room felt oppressive and stifling. She whispered to herself as if attempting to rid herself of the doubt clinging to her like a parasite. Her voice trembled, a fragile thread on the verge of snapping, as she said, "This time, I'll get it right."Her fingers hovered ov...

22 likes 10 comments 10
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Sin and Retribution

Submitted to Contest #282

I pushed open the bedroom door and began my usual descent down the carpeted stairs, each step echoing softly in the quiet house. At the bottom of the stairs, a full-length mirror hung against the wall, reflecting my weary image. Grey strands peppered through my hair, baggy eyes that spoke of sleepless nights, and a face etched with lines of nihilism and regret stared back at me. I looked at my reflection, disappointed by the man I had become. This wasn’t someone I was proud of.Shaking off the unsettling reflection, I continued walking throug...

14 likes 0 comments 0
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Nightmares

Submitted to Contest #282

My heart was pounding and sweat burned my eyes. There were 5 minutes left, and I had five questions left. This was not your typical multiple-choice exam, Each question required at least two paragraphs of analysis. I couldn’t possibly complete five analyses in five minutes. My chance of getting an ’A’ in the course was fading fast. I would never be accepted to Medical or Law school. Not that I cared about Law school but at least it was an alternative. I squirmed in my seat and wrote as fast as I could. Each time another student rose and hande...

11 likes 9 comments 9
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A Stranger to Me

Submitted to Contest #282

Ricarda dates the header of a new page in her journal, October 9th 1978. “Today, I met a man at the market. He was picking through the green chile peppers. I noticed him right away, his black hair danced in the breeze. The peppers he picked had a discoloration on the back that he didn’t see. When I told him he thanked me and I handed him 5 fresh ones. He asked my name and complimented my yellow dress. We walked together, holding hands. His thumb caressed my skin. Heat rose in my chest. We heard music playing from the balcony above us an...

11 likes 6 comments 6
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That Silly Overdose

Submitted to Contest #282

“He ignored your overdose because you were faking all of the other times!” There was a tone in her voice that could make the most tolerant person wince, and this was what the girl tried to focus on, since the words were the equivalent of daggers. I love the timbre of your voice… This suddenly came to her mind out of nowhere – a line from a scene she did in an acting class in college. A line from a play called “Beyond Therapy,” which was as appropriate then as it is now. It was from the first scene of the play and a blind date in a restaurant...

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Worse Ways

Submitted to Contest #282

Silena runs with a ferocity she didn’t think she’d ever need again. Her feet thump, thump, thump on the ground and her eyes search the dirty rooftop desperately for a familiar May. She knows she’s taking too long. She can feel the time slipping through her fingers like grave dirt. She bursts out onto her 4th rooftop, a quick scan providing nothing. She turns around. Her ears catch onto the quietest sound. A scuff, a wherper. She runs over to the other corner of the building and checks behind a wall.  There she is. May lays on the floor,...

9 likes 5 comments 5
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Rumination

Submitted to Contest #282

The sky is a pale grey as though it mourns for the passing of the sun. At this time of year, the two are estranged. When they meet there is a discordant chill of animosity. Occasionally, the sun will make a show of it, flirting with the clouds, or shining brightly as it slips away to pastures new. Going to a place it prefers to be. The abandoned sky collapses in on itself and deprives us of the sparkle of its children. Seldom do the stars come out to play when the sky is so saddened. I walk a well-trod path, observing the greys that bleed fr...

7 likes 4 comments 4
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A Covert Moment

Submitted to Contest #282

The world has changed. The sun never comes out anymore, instead a brackish fog lingers and the world is painted in shades of grey. But it wasn’t always like this.I think again about what I saw in the forest that day. I was stepping slowly through autumnal leaf litter, surrounded by verdant bushes, as the sun peered through patches that the oaks did not cover. I lived on the edge of the woods, far on the outskirts of town, but I always made time to go on these walks. That day the forest was silent, as fireflies drifte...

6 likes 1 comment 1
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The Champion

Submitted to Contest #282

Blink. Light. Sound. A feel of… sand? Beneath me.  Open eyes.  Bright light hurts. Cold. I look down. Yep, sand. Also, naked? I look around.  Walls in every direction. Round. No roof. No sun, but bright everywhere. One door. Big door.  Sound again, a loud banging. From the door.   Door begins to open. Worry.   Blinking again, I try to stand.  My muscles are weak, it takes too long.  I sway as I get to my feet.  And shiver. The door opens wide. Darkness. Then, a creature! A massive creatu...

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I AM OUROBOROS

Submitted to Contest #282

What does the desire to live forever say about a man? It's a very common wish. No one really wants to die—and yet no one's ever escaped their fate. There is a point in life wherein our own biology sits us down and sternly tells us—“Thus far shall ye go, and no further.” Yet, people still dream of the impossible. My own physical difficulties had become great—almost too great too endure. The sixteenth verse of the Havamal had been staring me straight in the face for a very long time. The coward thinks he will live forever If only from fighti...

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The Never-Ending Road

Submitted to Contest #282

           #ReedsyMomentsIt started out as a road trip along Route 50 East to Maryland’s coastline on the Atlantic Ocean. We headed out in the early afternoon, figuring it would give us plenty of time to bask in the sun of Ocean City and later frolic in the waves. Maybe we would spot a few dolphins or whales breaching in the surf.        We decided to stop at one of the boardwalk eateries for a little pizza and a few adult beverages before sta...

6 likes 2 comments 2
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The Lunch at Penny Lane Pub

Submitted to Contest #282

I was in shock at the dramatic change in our tenuous relationship. "This is fun, Brother. I haven't been here in years. Stan and I used to come here. He lived in England, you know.” Stan was Neva’s ex-husband.The afternoon was cool. We were sitting on the patio of Penny Lane Pub. Katie, my dog, was at my feet. I spread out twenty black and white photographs on the table, the fragments of our childhood, unfinished business, maybe always unfinished. My sister stared at them, then reached tentatively to one, rotating it a bit. "I recognize Punk...

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The Greatest Story Never Told

Submitted to Contest #282

Prologue I have an apology to make to all writers, both living and those beyond the veil:I’m afraid that I’m the cause of Writer’s Block.Yes, I brought about that most wretched of conditions, most dreadful of all curses for a bard to suffer.I’m sorry.How? A curious (or furious) writer might ask.It all started as a promising, sensational idea. Then it became a curse: a story that can’t be told. In my view, a fate far worse than Writer’s Block.What story?THE story, that’s what.The greatest singular work in the history of writing; an idea more ...

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The Long Goodbye

Submitted to Contest #282

They say that every time you recall a memory, the process of remembering destroys it and what you end up remembering is a reconstruction. A facsimile. The memories you hold so dear, the ones you think you could step into like real life, those are the ones you’ve thought of so many times that they aren’t real at all. A copy of a copy of a copy.That’s what life was like for a long time. And in a sense we were always on the same path. He, every day, a copy of a copy of himself. And me, every day, living the same day and simultaneously revising ...

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