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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write about a family with a long-standing tradition, whose members all have conflicting origin stories for it.

Posted in Thanksgiving on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 58 stories

“Pancakes” by Melissa Condon

Submitted to Contest #98

“Boys!” Matt called up the stairs. “Pancakes are ready!” Five young men came down the stairs in a cacophony of clattering feet and raucous voices. Talking, pushing, shoving, and jesting, they all managed to find their seats at the well-worn farmhouse table without incident. When they were settled,  Matt, clad in an apron that had been his mother’s, carried over a platter piled high with steaming, golden-brown pancakes and set it in the middle of the table. Leroy’s hand shot out to grab one of the cakes, but Vincent slapped it away. ...

3 comments 3
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“The Wooden Horse” by A. H. Joy

Submitted to Contest #98

Margreta wrapped the fragile wooden figurine in crepe paper the color of the eggshells she used to collect for market back home in Nuremberg. The crinkled paper was even speckled—the spots dark as coffee grounds against their nutmeg background—and she grazed the tissue-thin paper at the memory, a smile pulling at her lips. The smile faded, however, as memories flooded back to her from that time—not all good. At ninety-two years old, there were many who said she’d lost hold of her once strong faculties. During her recovery after glaucoma ...

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“Curdled: The Fracturing of an American Family” by Jayke Luland

Submitted to Contest #98

Next to the eggnog, the egg-rolls, the eggs benedicts and the eggs Au fromage, was exactly 140 millilitres of pure cream, purebred, all-American milk. It was a glorious sight for all with penchants for contracting Salmonella. It was greyish in colour and smelt like the bottom of a rotting table with poop slathered over it. For the Mennie family, it was a holy milk, and one they idolised with a radical ideological commitment to what this milk represented; Family tradition. As they were gathered around the dinner table -- having just complet...

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“Dysfunctional Tales from Beyond the Grave” by Tommie Michele

Submitted to Contest #98

Before I tell this story, I should probably make one thing clear. I’m a ghost.  Not one of those translucent, floaty ones in Ghostbusters, or the cute little kid variation of Casper, but somewhere in between.  A completely invisible 20-something-year-old man. Well, I was twenty when I died. I’ve lost track of how many years it’s been. But that’s not relevant.  Now that we’ve got that important little tidbit taken care of, I can begin.  This one family has been showing up to my cemetery on December 30 of each year (th...

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“How Did St. Gamer's Day Start?” by Saad Aman Sayyed

Submitted to Contest #98

Nana Ashley, as Peter called him, tucked Peter into bed and kissed him goodnight on the forehead as the sleep app started tracking neural activity. She remembered the good old days - when sleep apps could only track how many hours you slept. Those were the 2010s, a wonderful decade indeed. Melinda had already slept, but Nana Ashley's earbuds (which - as Peter would like to point out, were from the 2020s - a far cry from the ear surgery sound equipment you'd get when you were on the brink of the 2070s) were alarmed left and right in a so...

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“The Withering Profession of Edgar Allan Oaks” by Chris Tyroak

Submitted to Contest #98

   Much has been written of legacy and inherited heirlooms that thread together, the generations of an honourable line. For Edgar Allan Oaks, this prevailed in the old custodian helmet of his late father, Leopold Oaks, who still held the distinguished record for the most civil arrests in a calendar year. This antique trophy stood as a reminder for each generation of Oaks that 'policing was a notably esteemed and viable profession.'  This conferment persisted, not least, because old Leopold Oaks had instilled the principle...

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“Emergence of tales” by Emaan Arif Khan

Submitted to Contest #98

Someone once said "A happy family is but an earlier heaven". This story is about a girl Amaara and her parents and grandparents.Once on the day of Eid when they were on the table having their feast grandfather handed a 100 bucks and said to Amaara ,"Here Amaara ,here is your Eidi i hope you will use it well" Amaara says ,"Yess dada jan i would buy something useful with this but there was no need for this your support and prayers are everything for me" Dada jan says ,"no my child this is a way to adore you and this is a long standing traditio...

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“The Family Partition.” by Ritwik Saha

Submitted to Contest #98

Gilbert was an industrialist, who owned numerous industries across the country. He worked hard in his youth, as he never wanted to die in destitution. However he was affluent in his youth, as was a descendant of a rich father. But, he toiled relentlessly to maintain the name and fame and was able to hold up to his father's name and fame.   He was a family of six, including his wife- Emily, his sons Ivan, Riley and Dan. He had a sweet daughter - Emma, all of them were grown up. His sons were looking after the business quite pro...

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“Thursday Evening Strawberries” by Kayley Dickins

Submitted to Contest #98

It was a nicer Thursday this week than it had been the last. It wasn’t bright sunshine and perfect candyfloss clouds, but there were at least gaps in the slabs of grey in the sky that enabled tiny slices of deep blue to show through. It was the best they were going to get at the tail end of February, so they would appreciate it. It was at least not raining, which they also appreciated, and which enabled them to sit by the open doors and admire the view of the grey industrial buildings surrounding them. Again, not great, but they would apprec...

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“Crow Sammiches” by Charlene 🧙‍♀️✨ Boyce

Submitted to Contest #98

This is how Byers’ special Saturday Crow Sammiches works: you start with two fresh slices of white bread. Cousin Kim apparently uses whole wheat bread, but she also gives her kids Ovaltine, so take that for what it’s worth.  Anyway, two fresh slices of white, you spread them thick with margarine or butter (whatever’s cheaper, as mom would say). Onto this you squirt classic yellow mustard, and then you sprinkle both sides with sugar. Close the sandwich, cut in triangles. Put on a paper towel, carry it to the back of the yard at dusk,...

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“The Vase” by Anna Carter

Submitted to Contest #98

The old porcelain vase that stood on the worn mahogany table in the DeSaint household was not anything special to an outsider. Some visitors assumed that it was an expensive piece of art imported from China, some thought nothing of it and some were kind enough – or nosy enough - to ask Mrs Olivia DeSaint of its origins. The answers she gave were never satisfactory, she simply said it was an old family heirloom that made its way through several generations of the DeSaint. The visitors all though a bit underwhelmed by the answer often asked ho...

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“Incy Wincy Spider” by Sharon Williams

Submitted to Contest #98

Aunt Angharad was the most unlikely person to kowtow to our family tradition. A professor of psychology, who lectured around the world, she had had several books published. She was a strong independent woman in her early sixties who lived alone in a smart London suburb. When on her travels, she strode rapidly around with a confident, energetic air, carrying her laptop, and wheeling a case behind her. The family viewed her as a being ‘a trifle eccentric’. She was known to accept invitations to gatherings and then fail to arrive without giving...

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“The Truth of the Tradition ” by Sahiti Rayaprolu

Submitted to Contest #98

“Whew...the coffee’s pretty strong today,” I said loudly. My partner, Liam, was hardly paying any attention to my comment. I rolled my eyes and went over to see the problem. “Hey Millie,” he started. “The engine’s busted again. We might have to find help because this is beyond anything I can fix.”I glanced over at the engine and sighed. “Alright, go ahead.”The engine took hours to fix, and like any other car repair station, the workers gave us a list of complications that needed to be repaired. Oil leakage? But it was just fine bef...

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“Backward Day” by Ruby Galvez

Submitted to Contest #98

A young twenty-something man was waving at people gawking at him in the parking lot while loading several pounds of burgers, loaves of bread, and cartons of beer into the trunk of our car. My boyfriend Tony was a sight to behold in any crowd, with his blonde hair and muscular build. But today, what was catching the crowd’s attention was his inside-out shirt, pants, and canvas hat. I’m not too worried about people reporting my eccentrically clad hunny-bunny to the police. Rambling, crazy locals were normal for the day before the Sup...

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“Poker Night ” by Maria Bray

Submitted to Contest #98

TW: spousal abuse Their dad had all taught them to play poker. When he died, twelve years ago, all six of them agreed to start assembling once a month for poker night. In his honor, as a way to stay connected.   Jonathan lived in Eugene, Oregon and Gene lived 20 minutes south in Springfield so Jonathan would pick him up and the two would make the two and half hour trip to Coos Bay together. Jonathan, having a lead foot and zero fear, not only scared the living shit out of Gene but made the trek in well under two hours.   “For fuck’...

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