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Discover weekly, the best short stories

Looking for a steady supply of african american short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.

810+ African american Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Whether you want to read about African American author's hopes and resilience or their unique struggles, you'll find what you're looking for here.

African american Short Stories – Page 2 of 54

Beatrice

Submitted to Contest #291

The sound of the front door opening and closing causes Amber to glance from the window she'd been gazing out of. A smile forms as her daughter walks in with a mischievous smile. Amber takes in her child. The way her brown skin matches hers or how their eyes are turned down almost almond shaped, she also notes how much of her father is in her to her disdain.  Mona gives a smile back to her, sliding her bag off of her shoulder.  "Hey Ma! How have you been?" she asks, giving her mother a hug. Embracing her daughter, Amber breaths...

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Brutus Johnson's Last Chance

Submitted to Contest #291

Brutus Johnson sat waiting, as they would be coming for him soon. He faced the wall away from the cell door, and licked his lips, tasting the remnants of the steak on his lips, bringing a smile to his face. Even so, the appearance of a tall man leaning against the wall near the door, dressed all in black, complete with a black fedora tilted to one side and the brim brought low to cover his eyes, surprised Brutus. Brutus stammered for a moment, “How you get in here man?” The stranger’s voice purred softly like velvet, “In a way, I have always...

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It's Only A Dream

Submitted to Contest #291

Wendy felt herself lifting off the bed and floating out the window. She could see the wet streets below were practically empty of any activity. She remembered falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow because she’d had a long and stressful day at work. She loved being a nurse, but with the staff shortages, she needed two more of her to care for all her patients successfully. It was tough for the geriatric patients because they tended to be quite needy, mainly because of their loneliness. As she continued floating higher and higher in...

8 likes 1 comment 1
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Dreaming of Us

Submitted to Contest #291

She wasn’t looking for love. If anything, Jelena had spent years building walls thick enough to keep even the most determined man out. She was a force—running her marketing firm in downtown Chicago, moving through life with the precision of a woman who refused to stumble. No distractions. No detours. Just her ambition and the fire that had carried her through every storm.And then came Roman Saint-James.Six foot one, the kind of man whose presence commanded a room without effort. His confidence wasn’t loud, but it was felt—a slow, rolling thu...

7 likes 1 comment 1
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My Budddy, the Prince

Submitted to Contest #291

“I didn’t know he was leaving. What do you think made him do it?” Ben thought the guy was his best friend, but then two days after graduation, he just disappeared without a word to anyone. Ronny turned 18 in March of their senior year so he didn’t need his parents permission to enlist in the Army, but still, why? And, why the hell did he never get in touch?Nan, his thoughtful sister, answered, “What do you think? He went off to fight a war. The way I see it there’s only two things that would explain it, either he’s n...

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Curls, Coils, and Chaos

Submitted to Contest #291

Keisha had always been at war with her hair. Not in a tragic, identity-crisis kind of way—more like a sitcom battle, with her coily strands playing the mischievous villain. She loved her natural hair, truly, but every twist-out, wash-and-go, and "quick" detangling session felt like negotiating peace with a nation that had declared independence decades ago. One humid Brooklyn morning, Keisha woke up, stared at her reflection, and sighed. Her hair had formed what she called "Defcon 4 Frizz." The satin bonnet she’d worn had clearly taken the ni...

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Resonance

Submitted to Contest #290

Sasha gazed at the latest comment on her exposé: "Brilliant reporting, ice-cold delivery as usual." She should have taken it as a compliment. She prided herself on her ability to detach emotionally from her work, which was an asset in investigative journalism. Her editor called her their "truth machine"—the reporter who never let feelings cloud the facts, who could write about anything from corporate corruption to community tragedy with surgical precision. But she felt burning annoyance at this comment.  Her latest piece on the city's h...

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My Quiet Transformation

Submitted to Contest #290

My Quiet Transformation by Alemu BedaneIt was a typical afternoon when the knock echoed through my door. I had just returned from school, stomach still heavy with the aftertaste of snacks, the dull hum of the radio filling the quiet space of my small room. I hadn’t expected anyone. In fact, I rarely expected visitors. But as I opened the door, my eyes went wide. Three of the most beautiful girls from my class stood at my door, smiling at me like a sunbeam cutting through the gloom of my solitude.I froze when I suddenly got head on them. They...

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The True Meaning Of Affection

Submitted to Contest #290

-Adoration is a powerful emotion. It can lead you to actions you never imagined. It can be directed toward any person, place, or thing:  Andrea and Kenneth were cool, but after a couple of years, Kenneth became too controlling. He didn’t want her going anywhere without him. His alcoholism was a problem for Andrea, so she didn’t care to be seen in public with him. And he was abusive.  One year, we were all going to attend our 10-year high school reunion together, but Kenneth didn’t want to go. He didn’t want Andrea to go either, but...

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scratches on my vinyl... the melody is love

Submitted to Contest #290

1996. Chicago. The Red Mill. Hot. Sticky. Sunday. That night, I fell in love with Daniella Rae. Or maybe I’d always been. I remember the sun was long gone, but the heat wouldn’t leave. All the hours I spent pressing the kinks out of my hair had gone to waste. My roots reverted from the sweat. My heart was pounding against my ribcage as my feet slammed against the pavement. Malcolm was up ahead, his tiny head bobbing. The mill was still blocks away, but music was spilling onto the streets. It was so loud that in a different neighborhood, they...

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Openminded Worlds

Submitted to Contest #289

I hate it here! Karmen stood in front of the door frame, trying to be as respectful as possible while she waited for her mother to finish her ridiculous rant. Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she was starting to fear her heart jumping out of her chest more than her mother. She clenched her fists in the pockets of her hoodie, hiding them out of view.  Her throat felt like it was under the pressure of a thousand unsaid words; it was as if a lump of dirt had invaded her esophagus and was holding it hostage, leaving her unable to...

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Tijuana at Five

Submitted to Contest #290

Words woke me and I looked up through the smell of car mustiness and petrol to a smiling moustache on a strange face. I was still curled in the darkness of the backseat and didn’t know if it had been on a long drive or if we had arrived in Mexico. I didn’t know if I was awake but I did know that we were sitting still now with the engine still vibrating. The moustache man wore dark glasses under a slouchy light brown military kind of hat with a shiny bill. I saw brown skin and a smile but he was just a blur with a background of glaring lights...

19 likes 4 comments 4
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It Never Made A Difference

Submitted to Contest #289

Elisha sat on the porch eating vanilla ice cream with her little sisters. She liked to take her time and savor the taste of the smooth, silky cream sliding down her throat. But her favorite part was when the ice cream settled in the bottom of the cone. When she bit into it, that vanilla goodness shot all through her mouth, and the cone remained crunchy to the end. That was one of the many treats they had in the summertime. It was a nice, warm, sunny day, and they were sure to enjoy it.  The girls lived in a nice house with their grandpa...

8 likes 2 comments 2
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Wake the Sleeping Dog

Submitted to Contest #289

Sometimes reconnecting with long lost friends leads to rousing a sleeping dog. Whether it wanted to be woken up was another matter, especially if it was woken up by the person who abandoned it. Michelle’s attention diverted from her friend, Angel, in the passenger seat, as a familiar hulking figure walking a pit bull up came into view. The last few sentences of Angel’s conversation fragmented into meaninglessness the closer they got to the dogwalker. As going over a yellow speed bump jostled the car, Michelle’s stomach lurched, her jaw set d...

18 likes 10 comments 10
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Tea, No Sympathy

Submitted to Contest #287

Peace Officer English stepped off his horse and greeted the men. He winked. “Well let me guess which one of you gentlemen I’m taking in”. The men laughed. Three of the four stood up to greet him. The other man, the only white man in the bunch, remained seated. Not because he was rude, though he was, or prejudiced, though he was that too. He remained seated because both of his hands were cuffed to a wagon wheel that was hitched to one of the men’s horses.  Peace Officer English took and gave hearty handshakes to the three ...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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