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Write a story with an age or date in the title.

Posted in Short Story on Aug 8, 2025

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✍️ 42 stories

Nineteen Again

Submitted to Contest #315

Leo was nineteen again, but she didn’t know him—and that was the whole point. He stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror at Murphy’s Gas & Go, staring at a face he hadn’t worn in eighteen years. The acne scars were gone. His hairline sat where it belonged. The cheap cologne hit him first—the same Axe body spray he’d doused himself in that night. His back pocket held the worn leather wallet and the guitar pick he’d carried like a talisman. Everything was exactly as it had been. August 15th, 2007. The night before Claire left for Sta...

31 likes 22 comments 22
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1987 Loopty-Loop

Submitted to Contest #315

1987 Loopty-Loop I looked up at the moonless sky. Well, I supposed the moon was there, it was simply obscured by wish-washy clouds. The laden clouds couldn't make up their minds whether they wanted to rain, sleet, snow or any combination thereof. They only knew they had to weep. Weep all over the sensitive e-field warning system and therefore all over me, a lowly security watch person sent on the task of keeping my eyes on the space between the double defensive fences since the questionable weather prevented the cameras from performing their...

26 likes 34 comments 34
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Twenty-five

Submitted to Contest #315

It was summer, and even though the window was wide open, the air felt sticky and warm, just like the squishy lime jello Maggie had eaten for dessert. She was curled up in a big, fuzzy blanket that tickled her chin. Small beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she wriggled and squirmed, trying to get comfortable. She really wanted to kick the blanket off, but she remembered Mama saying to follow the rules. And the rules were clear: no messing up the covers. "Don’t even think about it, Margaret!” she imagined Mama yelling. Whenever she was a...

23 likes 8 comments 8
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Club 49

Submitted to Contest #315

TW: Some swearing and mentions of self-harm. Fingers catching on a loose thread, I smoothed down the sequin top.The voice always started when I was ready to go out. Her voice.“Aren’t you a bit old to go clubbing?”I picked up my eyeliner, hand trembling slightly.“Why do you say that?”My eyes met my own reflection, star dust sprinkling the sides of my face.“Well, look at you!”“What do you mean?”“Hardly love’s young dream!”“Maybe not, but—”“But what?”“But…”“But, but, but…”“Don’t be mean.”“Isn’t it time you faced facts? You’re too old to dress l...

21 likes 18 comments 18
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Forgetting September 11th

Submitted to Contest #315

CW: Deals with themes of terrorism, war and PTSD “Oil and blood money fills the banksAnd puts working class kids in tanksAll of the profits from all of the war crimesLine all the pockets of all the fat swineWar machines breed chaos and painBlood falls from the sky like rainSo stand by the victims of freedomAnd light a candle for the dead and the beaten…" Never forget. That’s what they told me. That’s what they told all of us. It was spelled out on signs posted in the streets downtown and in the subway stations and in the terminals at JFK In...

17 likes 22 comments 22
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September 7th

Submitted to Contest #315

The first time I noticed the date was on a bus ad that should’ve been selling teeth whitening or mattresses. White font on black, nothing else: SEPTEMBER 7. No URL, no logo. Just a date, like a deadline that belonged to the entire world. I assumed viral marketing. That night on Reddit, I saw a thread on r/AskReddit: What’s your plan for September 7? The comments were nonsense—jokes about stocking beans, moving money, confessing love. A few swore it was the day, which was either the day nothing happened or the day everything did. The thread b...

16 likes 7 comments 7
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Monday, October 28, 1878

Submitted to Contest #315

The sun burned in the high in the sky, passing a judgment all its own. The prisoner, led out by Sheriff Bonjure, shuffled in black leg irons, dry dust from his dragging feet dulling their sheen. The assembled crowd waited, air thick with unwashed bodies and roiling anger that spiced the tongue of all who assembled. “Keep moving, scum,” The sheriff’s deep brogue, framed by his bushy mustache, brooked no opposition. “You have an appointment with Sunset Hills Cemetery after the hangman's noose.” Bozeman was a growing town, one that brought in i...

13 likes 10 comments 10
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That’s When It Started, July 27, a Sunday

Submitted to Contest #315

I kept checking my sales chart — just a few pages read now and then, nothing to write home about.Then, on Sunday, July 27, it happened. The chart began to peak, climbing for six days straight before falling to zero for three days… only to rise again for another four.I stared at it, curious, leaning closer as if the numbers might reveal their secrets. My mind slipped past them, far into the chart and beyond — to a world unseen except by dreamers — to a little town, a narrow street, a small flat, and a young woman about to step inside.It was S...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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… Toil and Trouble, aka Hallowe'en 1989

Submitted to Contest #315

Content: Domestic Violence Author's Note: Fourth stand-alone story featuring Joan Dark. Chronologically, this one is first (followed by "… So Grows the Tree," "… The Party Will Come to You," and "… Not as I Do"). Written order: "Not," "Grows," "Party," "Toil." Yes, I stretched the prompt here, sorry. ***** Deborah Dark always hoped the school bus would pick up Joanie and Junior before Steven got home. She would walk them down the mile-long driveway starting at 6:30 every weekday morning, rain or shine, to be ready to be picked up by 7:30. If...

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We Met in April of 2020

Submitted to Contest #315

April, 2020 We met in April of 2020, while housebound during Covid. My son, Kurt, 34, had been two months out of prison. “It’s so nice to meet you both.” you said, smiling warmly at me and my husband from Florida, zoomed into our home in New York. From your clear, smooth skin, slim shape, simple blouse, I surmised you were around 40, down-to-earth. From your slight accent I thought possibly Polish or Czech. From the recommendation I’d received for your addiction coaching services, I assumed you were expert in your field. It was your sincere ...

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Remember, remember the 5th November

Submitted to Contest #315

TW - Themes of grief and a brief mention of substance abuse It was the 5th November 2014 - Bonfire Night for most - but for me, it was the day that I died. It was a car accident, nothing particularly special; it’s not like I took a firework to the eye or fancied myself a burning Guy Fawkes. Nope, it was just another drive home from the office where I’d spent 4 hours in back-to-back meetings, 2 hours writing a report that no one would read, and the remaining time with my monitor turned playing a bit of Mahjong. I know what you’re thinking...

11 likes 6 comments 6
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October 13, 1847

Submitted to Contest #315

You will think me mad. You must. What sane man would commit to paper what I am about to confess? And yet I am not without reason, not bereft of those faculties which constitute the ordinary governance of the mind. On the contrary, I am — or was — a man of precise habits, inclined toward the rational, given to measured inquiry rather than frenzied speculation. My purpose in writing is not to indulge fevered imaginings, but to set down, with all possible exactitude, the events that took place upon the thirteenth day of October in the year of o...

11 likes 4 comments 4
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March 1st

Submitted to Contest #315

January 11th. That’s the day my life split into “before” and “after.”The MRI room is cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and makes your teeth want to chatter even if you’re not nervous. But I am. Dr. Vaheed sits across from me in the small consultation room, his hands folded like he’s trying to keep them from shaking. The scan images are still lit up on the monitor behind him, the black-and-white slices of my body that now mean something.“It’s osteosarcoma,” he says.Bone cancer.I stared at the floor. I’m nineteen years old, qua...

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June 20, 1998

Submitted to Contest #315

1 At the beginning and end of each fall term, teachers at Northwest Community College convened for in-services and prep days before the students came back from break. Serena conducted teacher training sessions on using the new online portal to log student grades and track attendance. Last year, students began taking online exams, which was supposed to free up time for more teacher-student interaction. That’s not always how it went; for the digitally challenged, technology seemed to trip them up on the daily. They were Serena’s job security, ...

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8

Submitted to Contest #315

I eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch every day. Mom used to make them for me, but now I do it by myself in the morning: one slice of Pepperidge Farm white bread, creamy peanut butter (I hate crunchy), Smucker’s grape jelly, and another slice of bread to finish. I cut the crusts off afterwards, and snack on them as my breakfast. Sometimes, I cut off a little extra to eat on the walk to school. I’d say I’m an expert at making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches now. I made one for Dad yesterday and he said it was the best sandwich...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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