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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of christmas short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.
Coming of Age
People of Color
Teens & Young Adult
We'll send you 5 prompts each week. Respond with your short story and you could win $250!
I could smell the woody, fresh scent of the evergreen wreath as I hung it in our bakery window. The little, sparkly lights and rough pine cones sway as I adjust the wreath from side to side, trying to decide where it looks best. I could almost hear my grandmother’s soft, frail voice saying,” Make sure it’s right in the middle of the window. We need to eclipse the Parten’s window if we want any chance at beating them thi...
“I am clearly saying that’s impossible to do and waste of time!” said Faith angrily, after a pause, Diya said, “Well, even the word impossible hides the word possible, see if we remove ‘im’ from possible, then its possible. I mean, everything is possible!” I controlled my laugh, but da*m it came out, I put my hand on my mouth to shut the fuck up, but seriously Diya did a shit right now. “Really, you are laughing Serrah?!...
I got to the oven just in time before they burnt to a crisp. What did it matter anyway? Everyone expects women of a “certain age” to just love baking. But I just think it’s too much work for something you can buy from the store that’s just as good. And I really hate cookies. Especially snickerdoodles. But those were his favorite Christmas cookies. And everything had to be just perfect when he got here.
It had been five years since Nana’s death, and many more years since she was the woman all her family remember. Sometimes it felt as if it was only yesterday that she was whirling around the kitchen, her shrieking and laughter filling the room whenever one of the numerous pans scattered across the hob began to boil over. Whenever she cooked, clouds of flour hung in the air until the room resembled a snowy winter scene. M...
‘It was called Kifli not Kiffler. You’re thinking of some kind of potato’ his mum said.
’Sorry, I do not have the recipe. She never shared it. And anyway, it was hardly a recipe worth sharing.’
She was right. The recipe was not worth sharing. She did not mean it was bad. A kifli is a buttery, sugar coated biscuit. They were delicious. But the recipe was too vague to be of much use.
Write about someone trying to recreate a grandparent’s signature baked goo...
Theresa opened the mail, sorting through bills and cards her regular customers had sent to her for the holidays. Among it all was a festive flier for the Port Townsend Holiday Bazaar. Of course she always attended, with a booth full of her bakery’s treats, and entered her famous White Chocolate Torte in the Town Bake Off. She had won first place three years in a row, and considered changing the recipe but decided to stic...
Sweat beaded on Kylie’s forehead, her lower back groaning under the weight of the heavy cardboard box clutched tightly to her chest, left ear sandwiched against it as her feet extending blindly reaching for the next step. When she reached the bottom— again grateful not to have fallen— she dropped the box heavily on top of another, surrounded by many more just like them. The growing pile of Pop’s b...
A bald eagle soars above the sky, looking down at the land below. It sees mountains, green in the summertime, now covered with snow, sloping down to meet a little town at its base. The sun begins to peak above the top of the mountains, chasing away the dark and replacing it with a soft orange glow. In the town, smoke rises up from the chimneys as the first day of December began.
This was Revelstoke, Briti...
Outside 111 Sycamore the street was blanketed by a thimble-thick layer of pure white snow. Flakes the size of quarters were still floating lazily to the ground. Though the road was still a clean sheet of winter powder, the sidewalk was traced with the lines of modest strides coming from either direction. The footprints combined to clear most of the snow leading up the walkway to the Hines' wraparound po...
December the most wonderful time of the year. This is the biggest time for bakeries, especially the two that have been rivals for years. Every year they compete to see who can get the most items sold at the annual holiday festival. But this year was different. Instead of doing solo shops, they decided to make it a partner competition this year. The two shops had no idea how to react to this, they had no other friends in ...
I could tell mum was trying not to cry again, even with the mask over her mouth and nose. Her eyes were wet, and she was blinking hard. She did that a lot this Christmas. For a second she stared at the oversized fake pine tree in the shopping centre, surrounded by equally fake presents, watching the man dressed as Santa listen to children shout from 6 feet away. Santa was wearing a mask too. I knew what mum was thinking ...
Jenn called her twin sister Sara to tell her that she was on her way and would be at her house to pick her up in precisely eighteen minutes. This was not precise at all, in fact, because Jenn knew from years of experience that her sister was always five minutes late, and Jenn actually planned to arrive in twenty-three minutes. Sara was not unaware of this falsehood, but somehow it always had the desired effect, and the arrangement had always worked for them. She was, therefore, walking out her front door exactly twenty-three minutes later...
Jaemin was sitting in his kitchen thinking about something special he could do for the Christmas party. He looked around the room and happened to stop his eyes on a plate of cookies he had made. Then, he got an idea.
"What if." He thought. "What if I made a giant cookie! What if I got Jun and Artemis to help me make a giant cookie! We could make the biggest cookie in the world! We could b...
How To Write A Christmas Romance I stare at my laptop screen, disbelieving the words my editor Jeannine is uttering. A Christmas romance? Is she kidding me? I am Kelsey McCarty. Queen of the Disgruntled Female Detective genre. My fat tabby, Kramer jumps aboard the laptop and begins to dance upon the keys. “A Christmas romance? Need I remind you, I write dark suspense novels with a protagonist who is combative, anti-social and drinks too muc...
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