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11000+ 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 715 of 734

The beginning...

Submitted to Contest #64

What was it that he was trying to come to terms with? Was it so simple? Was it justified for him to let it go? Was it all even about him? These were a few doubts that pedro had in his mind. He loved his wife and so much but maybe showing was never enough. And now maybe it was too late to even try. Mrs Mohan‘s 50th birthday one surely could not miss and there they were, Pedro and Natasha, the couple who was finely and genuinely in love inspite the fact that it had already been 18 years of their marital bliss. Well of course they had their sha...

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Faraway The Gownboys

Submitted to Contest #64

Boarding school drop-offs are bound to be an angst-ridden affair. Not that I have much experience. For me, n = 1. But everyone's bound to be charged up. Happy. Sad. Scared.Three weeks ago, mum and dad broke it to me that they were sloughing me off to Charterhouse for the next four years. My best mates—Shawn, Edgar, Tyler—are off to Eton or Wycliffe or else they're staying home. It’s not like we don’t have top schools here in Birmingham. In soft rebellion, I put off packing. I’m going away from mum and dad, and Janey and Charlie--and the...

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Standing Room

Submitted to Contest #64

"Hey kid, want to earn some money?" The man asking looks like a wealthy foreigner; nice clothes, shoes, well fed and groomed. I'm short and thin, barefoot and wearing ragged discards. At seventeen, I am often mistaken for twelve, because I have never had a day when I ate enough to keep my stomach from feeling empty."What work and how much?""Ten taka to carry a message. No peeking at it.""How far?" Sometimes they want you to take things across the border. I won't go there for less than two thousand. It's twelve days on foot. Each way."Coffee ...

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Deathly Power

Submitted to Contest #64

I stood in front of the mansion, shaking. I didn't want to enter it, but I had to. I had to understand. My pursuit of knowledge would not let me give up. I had travelled to England for this. I was an investigator, trying to understand the activities of the paranormal. I also held the only weapon that could deal with a spiritual being, whether in human form or not. I had developed it myself and had sacrificed my gift of magic to do so. I spent years looking at various sites, many of them falsely considered haunted.  Whoever tried to ...

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Gothic Manner

Submitted to Contest #64

Gothic Manner “Oh, you said manor, I thought you meant manner. I got the Gothic; the manor threw me. So you’d like to buy a Gothic manor?” “Is that a problem? You know, I’m not exactly sure what he meant by manor. He won a lot of money and turned into a jerk. He used to be an OK guy, but since he got more money than God, he’s changed.  Well you know George, don’t you? It all started when we were arguing about wasting money on lottery tickets. I told him the chance of winning was millions to one.&nbs...

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Out of the Frying Pan

Submitted to Contest #64

Out of the Frying Pan “Give me your hand.”  “Fire!” the words slipping from my dream, leaving one eternity for another. I don’t know what I was thinking, perhaps I wasn’t. Sometimes we do things with no concern for our own safety. Most often though, we recognize the danger involved in an act, and take a few minutes to weigh the consequences. It is that time, that few seconds, minutes, hours, sometimes days, even weeks, that we place our internal debate, where anyone walking down the street, can see it. They can see...

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Into the flames, for you .. - Part 3 - Flames and Fire

Submitted to Contest #64

On a normal day, you would hear the birds chirping. This was not a normal day. On a normal day, you would smell the scent of the Christmas bush, softly hinting of honey and buzzing wildly with bees. This was not a normal day. Today, the birds were quiet; the air, heavy with soot. The cracking of tree-limbs, as they broke under the pressure of fire and cloud, was deafening. This was definitely not a normal day.In a fire, we’re taught from an early age, to “Get down low, and go, go, go”, because that’s the safest place to breathe. There are no...

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Under Your Persimmon Tree

Submitted to Contest #64

One.  You promised to write every day. Your two pinkies were outstretched and your parents met you halfway with theirs. You liked how the fingers wrapped around each other. They looked like little hugs. Your parents bent to kiss you goodbye. Two little circles on each cheek. You inhaled their scent of ripe persimmons and wet paint on portraits of dead pets.  Over their shoulders, you saw another boy leaning on his car. He had thin-lipped parents who stared straight ahead. They tapped their feet to an unheard rhythm. He offered hi...

40 likes 21 comments 21
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Mildew Manor

Submitted to Contest #64

“This is the home we’re planning to have renovated. It’s a little bit dusty, I’ll admit, but it’s nothing new floors can’t fix.” Father said to Mr. Gigelwithy as we stood on the driveway, gazing upon the pink exterior of 337, Oakton Drive.  A large Dogwood tree that stood greedily in the front yard took up all of the sunlight, so the front door was covered in shadow. However, the modest home seemed okay with it, still managing to look enchanting without a spotlight. The front porch was damp with recent rains and smelled quite earthy, m...

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Hallway No.7

Submitted to Contest #64

Well, every family has that one thing they hide from everyone. My family has 7. For us, we hide the fact that we are cold blooded murderers. Trained from birth to bring death upon people. For the right price, of course. My Grammy, Grand Papi, Mom and Dad, they are absolutely skilled killers. No one in our bloodline has ever got caught. We intend to keep it that way. My brother, Henry, his weapon of choice are daggers. I have no idea how many he carries but they seem to never run out. At times I thought he had magical abilities. Spoiler ale...

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It's Worse This Year

Submitted to Contest #63

“Close the blinds, do it now.” “It’s after 10, who’s coming back?” “It’s 10:04, and I promise you…” The rap of the glass rapidly buckling in the doorframe startled them both. Molly turned to see a lankey, greying man in a snapback cupping his hand to the glass to peer in. As their eyes met he excitedly motioned towards the handle he had been tugging on with one hand while giving a thumbs up with the other. “Closed. We’re closed!” After one more pull on the locked door, disappointment turned the man back to the woman standing behind...

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American Coot

Submitted to Contest #63

Tonight's the night; The sun went down over the horizon, red rays peeking through the pine trees and quiet cookie cutter houses that surrounded my lake. It was a peaceful neighborhood and we were well fed by the friendly hipsters in flannels and Ugg boots. But the scarves started to show up despite the increasingly warmer, sunnier days into this season but the nights were chilly enough for that to be my cue to fly south for the season.I joined with my crew out in the middle of the lake to see what our travel plans were as of current.  "...

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All Things Considered

Submitted to Contest #63

What the fuck is Autumnal? Fucking coffee shops are always pulling this gimmicky bullshit. Whether it’s helping kids with cancer or puppies with no home, busissnesses are always trying out some sort of gimmick to drum up business. So, it's no surprise to see the window chalk on this hipster coffee shop read “autumnal drinks". It’s always some sort of bullshit to get the half-brained liberals to flock and spend their money on everything from pumpkin spice this to pumpkin spice that. I’d like to show ‘em my middle finger and they can pumpkin s...

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Coffee is Worth a Thousand Words

Submitted to Contest #63

The leadership, o Consorcio, of the city of Santiago de Compostela, had the grand idea of organizing a coffee competition. After all, theirs was a city of a hundred thousand residents and nearly as many students. Everybody went to a café daily, sometimes more than once. The leaders also thought in terms of tourism, even though the City of the Apostle had more than enough of them. Add to this the fact that the residents didn’t mind the entertainment such a competition would provide. They were willing to pretend for that week that they lived i...

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Balance

Submitted to Contest #63

His hands, flapping around uselessly on the way down the cliff face, grasped nothing but air. Finally, he perceived a sickening crack -- a sound that appeared to come from all around him, yet from deep inside -- as bone collided with age-old rock. The last neuron impulses, which flashed through Jim D. Brick's dying brain formed a single thought: Why them -- what did I ever do to them?! Heidi Brick used a template to draw another few maple leaves onto pages of orange, brown, and...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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