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Write a story in which someone gets credit for something they didn’t do.

Posted in Thriller and Suspense on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 13 stories

Thank you for your (?) contributions

Submitted to Contest #121

Emma was at the furthest end of the trade show, aimlessly doing “competitive research” and wondering if it was too late for coffee, when her phone rang.A hearty voice at the other end invited her to dinner with the German sales team that evening, “in recognition of her work for the German market.”Far from being grateful, Emma felt nothing but bewilderment. Had she done anything for the German market? A year prior she had customized some marketing material for a local customer. It took about a day. Somehow that didn’t seem worthy of dinner.&n...

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James Smith

Submitted to Contest #121

It hit him earlier that day, the loneliness. It does every now and then. Things get quiet, the house gets dark. He talks to walls, televisions, poor old mirrors. A sorry figure.Other times, he gets along just fine by himself. Takes up time, stays on the go. Sometimes, he even likes it better. But when he gets hit, he feels every inch of emptiness in space. 46.1 billion light-years of all alone. It's a particular type of sadness. And it will never end.Never end.Never end.Or that's what it says.Bottles. Bottles everywhere. No surprise there. H...

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A Plaything

Submitted to Contest #121

My eyes have always been glassy. A special, magical glance that reflects only the special and the magical.   My skin has always been taut, smooth and unblemished. With hair that coils like rolled wafers, and a face that perfectly smiles a toothless grin at my Beholder, I exist with welded cherry lips and a rosy blush that’s never disappointed.   Some say the bottom of my shiny shoes have Made In America embossed on them, but I, unfortunately, am not flexible enough to see. I saw a friend of the Duke bent their legs to see the soles...

12 likes 1 comment 1
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A Visit to the Star Chamber

Submitted to Contest #121

David Vallejo was walking through the halls of Montenegro High School. It was a Friday morning, and the four-minute warning bell had just rung. He was heading to his first class of the day, “Advanced Placement” World History, though not with any particular enthusiasm. He loved the study of history, but the way that subject was “taught” by Mr. Richard Pinguino somehow sucked most of the joy out of it for him. When he entered the room he noticed a palpable distress written on the faces of his classmates. Some of them were in a state of outrig...

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Trials and Tribulations

Submitted to Contest #121

“I’ve got great news. They’ve approved us for human trials!” Kellie shrieked. “Are you serious!? When? How?” Sheila asked, ripping her eyes away from her computer screen to see if Kellie was serious this time. “Well, we have to put out some feelers for volunteers so I’m guessing in the next couple of weeks,” Kellie replied, scrolling through her phone’s calendar. “Ugh, that’s our next problem.” Sheila slammed herself against the back of her chair in a wave of defeat, “Who is going to willingly volunteer for this kind of gig? Especial...

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The Sadchan

Submitted to Contest #121

It was a day at the end of summer, but for Wilmington, North Carolina, a gift.  Almost noon, the temperature not yet seventy. Alan was sitting on a concrete bench, breathing slow, relaxed, and at peace. He glanced over at his nine-year-old grandson, Tommy, who was sitting at the other end of the bench. Instead of enjoying the tranquility of the moment, Tommy was hunched over and with occasional gyrations and sudden movements, playing with some sort of electronic device. Alan wasn't sure if it was a phone or something else.  &...

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To Whom It Belongs

Submitted to Contest #121

I'd never imagined that this one, simple act could ever have gotten so much positive attention.  Who would’ve thought it?  I mean, I didn’t do anything that no one else would’ve done, given the circumstances. Who would stand there and do nothing? Not one soul. My fame though shall be short-lived, as it is not I who is owing this award of bravery. I am honoured you picked up my story, but I must make it clear, it is not a tale that is my own, but that of someone who cannot speak for themselves.  I was asleep when I firs...

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Credit due

Submitted to Contest #121

Thanksgiving ahhh.... that nice time of year... with the crispy turkeys and pies upon pies lemon, lime, chocolate you name it. The food comes out in full display. I feel some warmth maybe on the inside...or wait maybe just from the food. Either way the warm fuzzy feeling dyed down soon enough when I remembered.....we have to wait to eat. So I sit in the middle of my talking talkative relatives without talking to any of them. Instead I start thinking, much more preferable. Hmm let's see yeah...well Columbus how much credit should he...

9 likes 1 comment 1
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Him

Submitted to Contest #121

I watched as his name appeared next to my design. I watched him glance over at me but stand up happily, claiming the work as his own. I watched as everyone around us applauded him. I watched as Mr. Lambert, our boss, handed him a red envelope. I watched my body tense up and freeze. I know he would do this, fuck me over. He always finds a way to do it.  Hours and hours passed and for some reason, I expected an answer from him. However, one never came, so when I finished my work, I walked over to his desk. He gave me a wolfish look th...

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Sunflowers

Submitted to Contest #121

Amelia D’Arcy: beautiful name; beautiful face; beautiful soul. She is the modern-day Snow White. Everyone in the office loves to be around her. Her laughter alone would repair the worst of moods and her presence lifts the atmosphere of everywhere she treads. She’s only been here for a few months, but I often ask myself how I managed the other eleven years without her? “You remembered!” she squealed, throwing her arms around my neck. I fumbled for a bit trying to yank my hands out of my pockets to return the hug, but by the time I’d managed...

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Better a live doggerel than a dead Lake Poet

Submitted to Contest #121

Pa pushed another heft of carcass into my unripe arms. I staggered down to the cellar, burdened the bloody mass to the butchering table and turned about for the next.I tramped back and forth through that sawdust twenty times and more a day, carrying quartered animal parts. I helped him split the cuts, salt the joints and take the meat back upstairs to hook on the brass rail at the front of the shop.The regulars came in cheerfully to purchase their victuals, gesticulating at the counter and passing the time of day. After they headed home I'd ...

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Gabriel

Submitted to Contest #121

          As soon as I felt the chill of the hard orange plastic seat through my paper-thin scrub pants, I wished I had changed back into my crumpled khaki pants and blouse, which were now squeezed in my backpack in front of the massive pathology textbook I hadn’t had a single free minute to study. It was my second year of medical school, our exam on dermatology was in three days, and I still had dozens of rashes to memorize, but I was too exhaust to wiggle the book out of my bag and open it. ...

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Imposter

Submitted to Contest #121

“I am here today with someone who has done the impossible...someone who has given hope to millions of people throughout the world. Just last week, she defeated unthinkable odds. Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know this woman’s name. So, without further ado, let’s give a warm welcome to Dr. Penelope Griffin - the cancer conqueror!” The host’s voice swelled towards the end and she began to sound more like a sports announcer than anything. Less than a second later, I watched myself as I stepped out from the hallway that led to back...

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