Menu

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Featured stories
Activity feed

Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

11060+ Contemporary Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. All the newest modern day stories to thrill and inspire, all in one place.

Contemporary Short Stories – Page 3 of 738

These Streets Know My Name

Submitted to Contest #300

Theo didn’t want to go home.“Let’s get another drink,” he said to Mark, a co-worker and friend of almost twenty years.“I think if you have another drink, you might fall over,” Mark replied laughing.Theo shook his head, even though he knew that Mark was probably right.Theo stared over the railing of the rooftop bar and looked out across the skyline of skyscrapers, and city lights that sparkled, and cars driving to their destinations, and couples laughing and walking and talking and arguing on the streets below.He breathed deeply the smell of ...

23 likes 12 comments 12
Read story

Echoes of Us

Submitted to Contest #300

Cecilia walked into a quiet garden. The breeze swayed the trees, and the scent of grass and blooming flowers filled the air. She walked until she reached a waterfall. The crystal-clear water rushing down the cliffside, the sound soft, yet powerful, echoing in her chest, making her remember something she couldn’t quite grasp.Something about this place called to her. Cecilia couldn’t put her finger on it. As she wandered deeper, the gravel crunched beneath her shoes–until it wasn’t.Laughter echoed through the air.It was light, familiar, and fl...

3 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

A Love Letter to the Art of Not Taking Things So Seriously

Submitted to Contest #300

There’s a kind of quiet magic in deciding - in only a moment - not to take everything quite so seriously. It’s the sigh you let out when you take your hands from the keyboard and stop trying to win the productivity Olympics. It’s the moment you realize the dishes will still be there tomorrow and waiting until then to do them will not change the trajectory of your life.For most of my adult life, I spent believing that being a successful adult meant color coded calendars, crumb-free counters and cleaning baseboards on Wednesday's. But as I mov...

9 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

The Man Who Fell From the Sky

Submitted to Contest #300

The sun blinded his descent. He looked up, the parachute above ballooned over him, reminding him of his mother's wash on the line when he was a kid. The white sheet floated, flapping in the wind, eventually dropping over him, losing his mom, who was still hanging clothes. He looked down; the brown landscape was rapidly approaching, and soon solid ground would be underfoot. The cursed jet and its millions of high-tech secrets were now just a black mushroom of smoke on the horizon. As he drifted down into the unknown, the pilot felt confident...

6 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

They Always Do

Submitted to Contest #300

The encyclopedias form a protective barrier between me and the world. They cascade along the built-in bookshelf behind the couch as I arch my neck along the cushions. I watch the red lava form question marks in the yellow tinted liquid, hot to the touch. I run my fingers over the dictionary’s toothy edges. The golden tin box with pheasants on its lid has embroidery thread of various colors in it, but I am too nervous to make a friendship bracelet, and I wouldn’t give it to Tegan Beckman, even if he might need it given his situation.Last nigh...

4 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

The Smallest Cage: Houses Can’t Breathe

Submitted to Contest #300

There was a house in Raleigh, North Carolina, that looked like any other. Two floors, a patch of peeling paint, dry grass stained with atrophy and bronze. It wore normalcy like a mask too tight for its frame—choking at the edges. Behind the windows, the cracks were splitting at the seams.Inside, the air never moved right. In fact, I’m sure I’ve begged for air. The clutter grew wild—towers of clothes, mountains of broken trinkets, closets that vomited old garments and unopened boxes. The house wasn’t lived in so much as hoarded, like a wound....

6 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Help Me Die

Submitted to Contest #300

Help me die…help…me…die I couldn’t get those words out of my mind. They burrowed into my brain as only persistent earworms can the whole way up Highway 101. Not even the majestic redwoods wrapped in their cool, foggy shawls could silence Mom’s manic mantra. Did I help her? Let’s get the suspense out of the way right now. Yes, I did. But it took a while. The last thing on earth I wanted was to say goodbye to the woman who raised me single-handedly on a wing and a prayer and very little else–no thanks to my good-for-nothing father who I ...

6 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

What Are They Hiding?

Submitted to Contest #300

Pareidolia-the phenomenon of seeing familiar objects or faces in random cloud formations. That's a nice sentiment but I don't believe a word of it and this is why. I've seen the things that are hidden in the clouds. Mysterious things. Obvious things... people, history, animals. Scenes from another realm perhaps. There's a whole world up there in those clouds that we know nothing about and I've only gotten glimpses through my camera's eye.I wonder why I'm called to take pictures of certain clouds because in reality I don't find something i...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

On Stage

Submitted to Contest #300

There were always the few hours before the show when Allison thought she just did not want to go, and she was asking herself if she should cancel it. Call the place and tell them she was sick. She wondered why she was doing this. Why exert the energy at her age? What was she trying to prove? Was it to win something, was it to go back in time to those early years in Manhattan? Was it to be known, so people would see who she truly was? Was it a search for meaning in her life after a forty-year law career that she never really wanted?For Alliso...

8 likes 5 comments 5
Read story

THE SHOEBOX

Submitted to Contest #300

Enough is enough Julie decided. I’m old and I’m cranky, and today I’m crankier than usual. I’m sick to death of everyone telling me what to do and not do, what to eat, when to go to bed…next thing they’ll be telling me when to fart and where! After 80 years on this earth, I think I know my way around. Julie grabbed her favorite cardigan from where she’d tossed it on her favorite recliner and pulled it on over a light summery dress. Just in case it gets a bit cooler toward 5. I probably won’t be out that long as I’ll need to be back to make...

19 likes 7 comments 7
Read story

The Cove That Held Me

Submitted to Contest #300

Some places you don't find—you claim. I was twelve when I claimed Pirate's Cove, Corona del Mar, California. A narrow inlet carved by time and tide, hidden between jagged cliffs and the restless Pacific. Today it's tamed—concrete steps with iron rails guiding the descent, the rocks worn from too many feet, beach towels, bold and bright, strewn like markers across the once-empty sand. But back then, the Cove was raw, sheltering, alive. A place the wind couldn't find. A place a child like me—lean, angry, light on her feet—could disappear into ...

8 likes 4 comments 4
Read story

& Eden

Submitted to Contest #300

02/22/2025Missed call (2) : Edie Left: 2:47 AM It’s still here—the park, I mean. Exactly how we left it. Not that I’ve been checking. The city hasn’t bulldozed it, the palm tree near the dirt still leans crooked from all those times we failed to climb it. I drove by last week, just to see what was left. Whenever Lē’ahi’s was on the route, you’d find somewhere to stop. You’d drive all along the road just to park illegally at the next park over. “They won’t tow us,” you’d say, grinning like the city itself owed you a favor.Today I passed your...

7 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

Whispers in the Canopy

Submitted to Contest #300

"Whispers in the Canopy" The rotors thundered above the canopy like a war drum, beating a rhythm that drowned out the jungle’s natural song. A UH-1 Huey helicopter sliced through the thick, humid air, its olive-drab frame camouflaged in the shifting light of early morning. The pilot, Captain Elias Granger, had sweat slicking his temples beneath the snug embrace of his flight helmet. His hands, however, were still—steady as iron on the cyclic stick. Below him, the jungle rolled in dark, endless waves—an ocean of green broken only by jagged cl...

7 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

BLIND WOMAN'S BLUFF

Submitted to Contest #300

BLIND WOMAN’S BLUFF Shh… this is a dangerous environment I am in, and I am not alone here. I didn’t really start here. I am talking into my mini recorder. My personal audio journal. Softly and quietly. I, Louise Ellison, I am not sighted ( I refuse to use the” B” word, but feel free, you sighted folks, to label me however you like, but don’t be insulting or pandering. We get enough of that elsewhere). Anyway, as I said, I didn’t start here. I started in my very own quiet, safe living room. Of course, any environment can be a dangerous...

6 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

Caught Out

Submitted to Contest #300

It had been over an hour since the fight, but he was still wound up. Every time he thought he was cooling down a little, another memory of something else she said inflamed him. How dare she even suggest he did nothing around the house? Sure, she did more than him, but only because she got to the sink first. He had every intention of doing the dishes, just not straight away. She manipulated the truth to control him. He wasn´t old school like his old man, who shamelessly did nothing to help around the house. He cooked all the time, cleaned,...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. All for free.