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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write an open-ended story in which your character’s fate is uncertain.

Posted in Short Story on Feb 7, 2025

Submissions are closed

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✍️ 95 stories

“Decisions, decisions” by Mark Gould

Submitted to Contest #289

Well, this isn’t where I had hoped to be. Its rarely a good thing when you have to make a choice between taking a career ending action which, whilst morally correct, will result in your bankruptcy and potential incarceration or choosing to quietly exit a deeply dodgy situation leaving others to sort out the burning bag of excrement you’ve dumped on them and hoping they can prevent too much destruction.I’m not a bad person. I’ll keep telling myself that no matter what the outcome here. Its just, sometimes things happen around me which aren’t ...

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“The Shadows on the Ice” by Kate Middleton

Submitted to Contest #289

The wind howled across the frozen wasteland, its voice a ghostly wail that clawed at the emptiness. Snowflakes, sharp as shattered glass, lashed against Eva's exposed skin, biting through layers of fabric. She pulled her scarf higher over her nose, but the cold was relentless, seeping through every gap, invading her very bones. Time had blurred into a cruel haze; she had been walking for hours, maybe days. It didn't matter. The only thing that existed now was forward. Forward, or death.Each step was a battle against the knee-deep snow, her l...

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“Liminal Spacey” by Kristy Case

Submitted to Contest #289

It’s dark and cold and raining. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here.  My head hurts. I roll my eyes​​, heavy in their sockets, up to look at the lightning rods emitting a faint buzz and pulsing like the butts of dying fireflies where the glass walls meet the ceiling; a poor attempt to beat back the night. When I place my palms on the aluminum bench and lean forward to peer outside, I can see nothing but rain refracting the light. The bench is cold on my hands, not on my butt; I’ve been here awhile.  Ah.  A memory of sta...

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“The Double Life of The Another Veronique” by Sonia So

Submitted to Contest #289

Room available in a Kreuzberg flat that resonates with artistic spirit. Short-term or long-term. Creative souls will discover their inspiration here. Call Veronika Whitmore—curator curiosity takes hold as the ad leaps off the page, painted with phrases that stir the imagination. "I'm Sonia," I remind myself, entranced by an ad that feels less like a rental listing and more like an invitation to a story. The term "creative souls" is woven through the description, its allure magnetic, suggesting a space where inspiration breathes and ideas unf...

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“Decisive Loop” by Jourdain Black

Submitted to Contest #289

“And hereeee we go.” Describing where I am is difficult. Like, I know where I am—I can sense it—but putting it into words seems impossible. The ground is ground-like; I must be standing on something. And even though there’s “space” as far as the idea can see (white? Colorless? Empty??) there are walls that are wall-like, taller than I can reach, and boxing me in.There’s very little to be said about how things look, and much more about how things feel.It doesn’t feel like I’m anywhere in particular, but the thought that I’m in such a strange ...

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“Knapsacks Rule” by Tyler Saint Clair

Submitted to Contest #289

Knapsacks RuleThe phone began to dial, then Hank Farley thought to close the window so his message would be heard. The line that ran just past his apartment was busier than usual today, and typically the railcars slowed along this stretch to accommodate for narrowness. Hank Farley’s eyes drifted upward from the tracks to a far off hill near a busy intersection where children rode sleds in the freshly fallen snow. He nearly forgot the business at hand when he heard the mailbox tone:VOICEMAIL“You’ve reached Madison with Stepping Ston...

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“Young Love” by Priya Ali

Submitted to Contest #289

There’s this girl. I can’t get her out of my head. Ophelia. What a beautiful name. It suits you. I walk by that coffee shop on Sixth Street every day after school, hoping I will catch you there. We briefly met, but I hope you remember me at least. Do you remember me, Ophelia? Today feels different. Maybe there’s something in the air. It’s cool and misty—one of those cozy days where time seems to pass by just a bit slower. I don’t usually go home this way, but it’s become a part of my routine. Every time, my mind wanders on this walk from the...

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“Alicia” by Anna Frederiksen-Washington

Submitted to Contest #289

It was Sunday afternoon at the wine bar. People had lined up outside the door to get a good seat at one of the tables or barrels near the stage and the place was quickly filling up. This was a popular spot at the trendy suburb on the edge of town and it was not only the locals that liked getting together for a glass of wine while listening to a live band. People came from everywhere, even interstate. Kirsten had helped her husband to set up the equipment on the small stage and was now taking a break in the little courtyard out the back. She ...

3 comments 3
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“Ulgoth Alert” by Jacob Dendulk

Submitted to Contest #289

Ulgoth Alert By Jacob Dendulk  The names Afie. Yes. Afie. Everyone always say my name’s meant to be Alfie with an L. I don’t tell them that they’re right. I don’t tell them that a Ulgoth attacked the hospital the day I was born and bumped Mum’s hand when she was writing my name on my birth certificate. But I’m ok with Afie. No one else is named Afie. It’s special. So yeah.My name’s AfieAnd I’m writing an exam today. An entrance exam to get into a Ulgoth fighting school. A really fancy one in the inner city, where al...

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“A Surplus of Piano Players” by Phil Huston

Submitted to Contest #289

“Nakata!”BAM BAM BAM. The redheaded girl checked her knuckles for damage, changed to the heel of her fist. “Tony!" BAM BAM. "It’s JoJo, from Ridge Runners. Open the goddam door, it’s important.”“Gimme a minute…” Tony Nakata, a forty-ish, tall for a full blood Navajo, pulled himself out of an Indian blanket covered La-Z-Boy recliner that had been slowly collapsing for at least fifteen years, waved his feet around on the floor looking for his moccasins, realized they were on his feet. He shuffled to the plank door on his grandfather’s hogan, t...

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“Boobs, Kisses, and Tears” by Lida Johns

Submitted to Contest #289

Liz walked into a bookstore. A stack of books with a provocative cover caught her immediate attention. “Boobs, Kisses, and Tears” by K.M. An over-photoshopped image of a Barbie-like woman with a seductive grin and quite generous neckline was a definite eye catcher. A memoir of a 25-year-old influencer, revealing the dramas of her life.  “Oh my…” Liz sighed as she picked up the book, casting a comparison gaze at her own generous décolleté, flipping through the pages.  It is her first summer in Dusseldorf, since the adventurous caree...

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“The Oppressive Weight of Implicit Things” by Livia Owens

Submitted to Contest #289

The Oppressive Weight of Unspoken Things -1- Woman, 40, Seriously Injures Child in AccidentBy Vickie Mills, Ace Media Group Local Content DeskApril 22, 2024 A Highland Heights woman will not face charges following a crash that left a four-year-old seriously injured. The accident happened on April 15 at the intersection of 4th Street and Plesser Avenue around 7:00 pm.  According to an affidavit obtained by Ace Media Group, witnesses told police that the four-year-old girl ran into the middle of the street and was hit by Deirdre...

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“The Yellow House” by Rachel Merritt

Submitted to Contest #289

Content Warning: This short story explores themes of grief and includes one short scene of criminal violence. Water running down my skin. Scattered seeds on wet cobblestone. Yellow paint. — My eyes snap open to a quiet room, its lone clock casting a blue glow atop our wooden bedside table.  A dream, Alyce. Just another dream. I reach for the ring that lives on a chain around my neck and press my thumb hard against the vintage cut stone.  In group, they tell us to choose an anchor that feels safe, something to help ground us i...

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“Unbalanced” by Andromeda Ripley

Submitted to Contest #289

June 21st 217 Honeycutt DriveCome alone Folding and refolding the paper, I stared at the cabin before me for a few excruciatingly long moments and tried to summon my courage. Tried to convince myself this was a good idea, showing up to a mysterious summons. I finally took my first step toward the cabin when the door swung open to reveal a battle axe of a woman, and a thoughtful look crossed her face as she ushered me in. I almost thought she was pretty, but a long, raging scar cut across her face, pulling the side of her mouth into...

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“We Are All Works in Progress” by Ian Craine

Submitted to Contest #289

   WE ARE ALL WORKS IN PROGRESS There is little in us that has been there from the start. Our cells are forever changing so that after a few years nothing is the same as it once was. So perhaps it’s not surprising that who we think we are changes over similar time scales. There are so many levels, from passing fashion to deep half subconscious identity. I am an only child. Just about. My parents met before the War. A note for later generations. When old gits like me talk about “the War” they mean what is more generally known ...

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Contest #289

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Title: All I Have To Offer Is My Truth

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