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

150+ American Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Looking for great American short stories you can read for free? Whether they’re written by American authors, set in the USA, or just have that ever-elusive quality of Americana, this is the page you’re looking for.

American Short Stories – Page 6 of 10

Thou Shalt Not

Submitted to Contest #319

The beeping was what got under my skin first. Machines humming, monitor blinking—proof that my mother was still alive, though barely. If she had listened to me earlier, we wouldn’t be here. But no, she had to follow her heart, her Bible, her God. For as long as I can remember, my mother believed hospitals were places of punishment, not healing. Even when the coughing fits started, when her chest burned with every breath, when the signs of lung cancer became impossible to ignore, she refused to go. Instead, she marched to the church every mor...

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The Reappearance of the Bell Witch

Submitted to Contest #319

Hello, my name is Kate Batts and I’m quite famous in these parts. I am known in the west end of Robertson County, Tennessee in this house. It became famous when I made my first appearance back in 1817 when John Bell and his family moved in to farm this acreage. According to local legend, I was the cause of his death. I find that humorous. My name has been associated with witchcraft and a deep sense of evil. Tell me truthfully, do I look evil to you? There are folks from Clarksville who would claim that I am the embodiment of evil around her...

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Sister, Staircase

Submitted to Contest #319

If I had a sister, I think she’d be a chimney. I don’t believe that a staircase’s sister should be another staircase. Why should that be the… Well, the case? Pardon me, I deplore repetition. My steps may look identical, but they’re each unique. I have names for all of them, but I change the names everyday just to keep things interesting. Houses can sit empty for years at a time. It’s vital to keep things interesting. One year I got so desperate I almost named the windows. Luckily, someone moved in the next week. That wasn’t the sisters. That...

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Oh, Oh, Guess What Popped Up {and what didn’t}

Submitted to Contest #319

Mild swearing, implied sexual content Everybody wanted toast this morning! I am worn out. Love these guys a lot really but, geez, my insides are still burning. Plus, Jason was so rambunctious about getting his English muffin out when it didn’t pop up he actually knocked me over. Wish I could see if I have a dent now. I do feel a bit bruised. And worst, nobody had time to clean my tray. How would you like to go all day with crumbs on your bottom??? At least now I can rest, hopefully till tomorrow morning. Nobody with bright ideas about eggs ...

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“Now You See Um!”

Submitted to Contest #319

CW: Violence, Disturbing Imagery, Cannibalism Hear ye! Hear ye, all young and old! What you may read here is incredibly bold. God made me write this. I believe in God, and His angels. This is what I was created to do. A long life of suffering has led to this point. Now, make a wish, or say a prayer, and jump off of the cliff, and into my story. Enjoy! TRIGGER WARNING-What you are about to read will disturb you to your core. It may make you question everything as I believe this was written by God- not me. I thought I was writing out of order,...

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Sins of the Father

Submitted to Contest #319

Nothing looked the same, yet somehow, everything was just as he remembered. Rob had not been down the path since he was thirteen and, truth be told, if it had not been for the letter, he might never have walked it again. To his left and right were oaks and poplars, the same ones that had guarded the trail some twenty years earlier. The trees, like him, were a little older and a little worse for wear—but their branches, like arms, still surrounded him, making him feel slightly claustrophobic. There was nothing he could do about the narrowness...

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The Upload

Submitted to Contest #319

Jim's thumb hovered over the "Share" button, the blue glow reflecting in his wire-rimmed glasses. Three years of following, of believing, of documenting every moment with the Teacher—and it had come to this.The video was forty-seven seconds long. Shot in portrait mode, because that's how the world consumes truth now: vertical, digestible, instant. In it, Manny spoke quietly to a small group outside the community center, his words about second chances and helping the forgotten cutting through the evening air like they always did. But this tim...

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Dangerous Chess

Submitted to Contest #318

She was awoken with a loud bang and a quiet curse from the kitchen. Easing the drawer of her nightstand open, she grasped for the knife that was always there. Silently, she slid through the main room of the apartment that she had scrupulously checked for squeaky spots a month ago when she moved in. Turning to face the open kitchen, she had half a mind to throw the knife when the curly head of hair that could only mean trouble appeared from below her counter. “Cat, hi.” He said, as if it was normal for him to be in her kitchen at this hour...

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Where the bayou meets the moon

Submitted to Contest #319

The Louisiana night pressed in—thick, watchful, and waiting. Demetri’s voice broke the hush: “What’s the catch of dealing with the witch at the crossroads?” The air reeked of wet earth and cypress, heavy enough to taste; fireflies drifting between palmetto fronds like embers. Katydids sing their lullaby, and somewhere deep in the swamp an alligator’s bellow rolled across the water and into Demetri’s bones. This place felt older than the road itself—a crossroad where promises never vanished; they merely get buried into the muck, frozen in ti...

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My Dad, the Wedding Planner

Submitted to Contest #318

Prompt: Start or end your story with a character preparing for someone else’s big moment.My Dad, the Wedding Planner I arose at the crack of dawn. I scampered out of my bed knowing that the day would be spectacular and full of wonderment. Adrenaline was pulsing through my arteries. Today would be the climax of my preparations for this glorious day. I would make my daughter’s wedding dreams come true. Stella’s hand had been betrothed to a fellow I had long since considered to be like a son. It was especially easy to get close to Stanley s...

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Paradox

Submitted to Contest #318

My eyes blurred with tears as I dusted the cobwebs from the empty totes I had dragged up from the basement. My arms ached from the digging I’d had to do to free them, pulling them out from under decades of memorabilia—like the brass-plated shoes my children had worn to first walk in, and the containers of military medals my once-young husband had earned, before his heart and lungs started protesting the chain-smoking he refused to quit. But worse than my sore arms was the pounding in my chest as I carefully stacked my daughter’s clean, folde...

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White Box

Submitted to Contest #318

Robbie wanted me to ride the wave after it was released. Said I should start an account, so I could be a part of it, be more easily found. “Could be major,” one other said, pounding and pouting into theirs between every take. “Nah, I just wanna dance. All of that would be an unhealthy distraction for me.” Bad for my anxiety. Those are moves I couldn’t master. Refreshing for more. Posing and calculating for them. Strangers who keep finding me, needing me, needing to tell me they see me, get me. Refreshing for another hit. Liking it, loving it...

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Petals Down the Drain

Submitted to Contest #318

My father enjoys listening to soft rock while I give him his bath. He wears one of his old bathing suits while I do it, and handles the parts the suit covers only after I leave him be for a few minutes. When you’re caring for a relative, there can’t be any shame or pride, but my father has plenty of both. I give him the minutes that he wants, and then I come in to towel him off and turn down the radio. I won’t turn it off completely until he falls asleep. I bring it into his bedroom and place it by the window. A caller is asking the DJ to pl...

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The Little Moth that Could Not Fly Anymore

Submitted to Contest #318

Trigger Warning- SOME LANGUAGE and SUSPENSE lis ahead! Blood! Lots of blood! If you are squeamish- you might want to read something else! Inspired by true events. Please, enjoy! “The Little Moth That Could Not Fly Anymore.” Part One- “BLOOD!!!!!!!!” “We’re just sitting here while Bradley is over there dying!” My mother said when she got my text that read, “HELP! I FELL! BLOOD!!!!!!!!” “I am on my way,” my dad texted me back. He arrived in nine minutes. Nine minutes that were absolute hell for me. Death! I thought. Tonight was the night I wo...

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Miss America

Submitted to Contest #318

“And , the winner of Miss America is Susana India….” She is a very unique exotic women with defined American features. Her beauty contains a slender nose of a goddess, the light brown color of Indian heritage and no one can ignore her beautiful smile full of perfection with a smooth soft pretty English tone. And, the worst part, she is from Texas. The biggest state with the biggest stories of action, redemption and satisfaction. The Lone Star has taken so many pageants! The whole world is watching Texas. The whole earth is counting on Texas....

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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