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

5460+ Creative nonfiction Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. The creative nonfiction stories on this page deliver exactly what it says on the tin: true stories told in weird and wonderful ways.

Creative nonfiction Short Stories – Page 17 of 364

Too Late

Submitted to Contest #294

Prompt: Write a story in which the first and last sentence are the same.Too Late“What was the owner of this red corvette thinking when he ordered a vanity license plate saying “Too Late?" Why such a nebulous and ominous phrase?  I wanted so much to ask the owner but he quickly drove by me. That stingray corvette was a gorgeous piece of machinery. It was sleek and painted in firehouse red without a ding or scratch on it. The owner really knew how to take special care of such a prized vehicle. I figured ...

7 likes 1 comment 1
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To whom it may concern

Submitted to Contest #294

To whom it may concern: Every day of the week has a beginning, a middle, and a future. Who knows about tomorrow. She doesn’t remember yesterday. Kind of. But not, really. She sure doesn’t remember it the way that anybody that was with her yesterday remembers it. This is a story about Amy. A story only Amy, can tell. Right off the bat she’ll tell you that she has issues. Yes. I said it. And I know it. Issues. I-S-S U-E-SIssues…Fuck.That word. Lol. The, issues. The, reasons. The be-causes. Be-cause…Of Amy. Be-cause of what she normally does. S...

12 likes 1 comment 1
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Dear Me - Discontently Happy

Submitted to Contest #294

Dear Me,I see you. I see the journey you’ve walked, the struggles you’ve endured, and the triumphs you’ve earned. You have lived through the chaos and still found a way to thrive. You have fallen and risen again, each time stronger, wiser, and more resilient. If nothing else, let this letter serve as a reminder of your incredible ability to survive, adapt, and find happiness even in the most unexpected places.Life, as you have learned, is not about perfection—it is about embracing the beautifully messy, unpredictable, and sometimes infuriati...

6 likes 0 comments 0
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Hey Big Bubba

Submitted to Contest #294

T.W. mentions of suicide and heavy with mental health and grief. Hey Big Bubba,I still hear your footsteps on the moonlit floor. Not loud, not sharp—just a soft shuffle, the kind you used to make when you were trying not to wake anyone, even though your laugh would give you away every time. Sometimes I catch that sound late at night when I’m sitting up thinking of you, and I wait, just for a second, to see if it’s really you walking through the door. My chest lifts like I’m holding my breath without meaning to. But it’s just the wind, or may...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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The Boy Who Almost Ran Out of Words

Submitted to Contest #294

Some people hear a word and understand it. I hear a word and suddenly, I’m thinking about meteors, jellybeans, and whether ducks ever get bored.It starts with one word. One simple word.Today, it’s "gravity."Gravity means things fall down. But what if they didn’t? What if gravity decided to take a break? Would my chair float? Would Miss Mavis float? Would my thoughts drift right out of my head, like dust in sunlight? Could I catch them? Keep them?"Mark!"Oh. Right. School.The classroom hums—chalk tapping a rhythmic beat against the board, chai...

19 likes 13 comments 13
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The Day The Music Died

Submitted to Contest #293

I died 48 years, 249 days, and 3 hours before I was ever born, but the worst part is that I´m still breathing. My mother calls it obsession, although it isn’t obsession when everyone has moved on but you’re stuck there. I’m still on that four-seat Beech craft Bonanza, drinking a passion fruit martini or maybe even something more glamorous. I look around me at these musical geniuses whose words could bring tears to a tough man’s eyes, I look around and they are completely bored., anyone would’ve died to be on that plane and they just sat ther...

4 likes 2 comments 2
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Bitter Blood

Submitted to Contest #294

Trigger Warning: Abuse and Mental Health: OCD Chapter One I’m still alive.I stretch my neck out of the window, and reluctantly draw it back, after the wind has slapped against the bruises on my cheeks, in a rather harsh way. The wind is lovely, until it isn’t. I find solace in the embrace of the breeze wrapping around me, until it slaps against my tattered skin. It is beautiful, if we don’t have it in excess. I force my head out again. The wind slashes against my cheeks and slides down my throat, uninvited, till I can’t breathe. I never l...

10 likes 4 comments 4
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UNPLANNED MIX IN PARIS

Submitted to Contest #293

Our weeklong trip was over, and we were back in the sky heading due east to get back across the pond. Strapped in this big mastodon was not where I wanted to be at this time. My mind was on autopilot and in panic mode given the circumstances we left just a day ago. It was a crucial moment in time that we witnessed, in a sense, since a jet airplane flew over on an ominous path as we walked through the gardens of a popular tourist spot. We did not know this was a fatality soon to happen at that time. Fortunately, we were on the ground and not ...

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VINYL SEATS

Submitted to Contest #293

              ‘Vinyl seats’!      “We’re going on a journey tonight, and we’ll be going on the train,       My Dad, or, ‘who you call Uncle Albert’, is in a lot of pain”!      “He’s in hospital now, but when he comes home we’ll all be there,        and our journey is overnight, to show him how much we care”.     ...

4 likes 1 comment 1
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First Class Passengers

Submitted to Contest #293

First Class PassengersGary E. GrissomRon Scott and I had gone on a weekend pass from Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis, to his parents’ home in Pittsburgh. We had flown there by using military standby status on an America Airlines 707. To get military standby reduced tickets, you needed to wear your uniform. We felt very lucky to get two seats on the plane and looked forward to an exciting weekend away from the fort and to be wearing civilian clothes again. Ron’s father met us at the airport at 7 p.m. and drove us to their home.“I ...

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Are We There Yet?

Submitted to Contest #293

The early morning fog saturated every filthy window of the old locomotive. Only in the very last panel was there a sign of clarity, which came in the form of a tiny handprint. Two large brown eyes, sparkling with wonder, stared directly at the soldiers standing outside of the train. One young man stood smoking a pipe and reading the daily issue of the Völkischer Beobachter. The date read May 14, 1943. The eyes stared out the window for a few more moments, then the tiny head which they inhabited turned to the figure in the next seat. “Ma...

4 likes 0 comments 0
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A Journey of Two Worlds: London and the Life I Left Behind

Submitted to Contest #293

The bus to Ezeiza, Buenos Aires airport, left at 1:15 a.m. My brother drove me to the bus terminal, and there, to my surprise, my friend Mirta was waiting for me with a smile and open arms. Her warmth and the last laughs we shared before my departure tempered the excitement of my departure. She shouted to the other passengers, "This is my friend Florencia, and she's going to live in England!" as she took one last souvenir photo. I had four hours of travel to reflect on whether I was making the right decision. Despite having the heater on, th...

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Going Solo

Submitted to Contest #293

I only have 30 seconds before I smack the ground at the speed of an Audi on the German autobahn. It’s my first ever skydive and I’m petrified. With a static line exit, the canopy should have deployed automatically on leaving the aircraft. Mine, however, resembles a cannonball rather than the colorful silky plumage of a bird in flight. Freshly divorced at 34, after ten years in an abusive relationship, the skydive would prove I could survive on my own, a ritual to say goodbye to the powerless victim, that would accept every ‘I’m sorry, I love...

20 likes 25 comments 25
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The Magic of the Passenger Seat

Submitted to Contest #293

I'm 25 years old, but I still sit in the passenger seat. When will I get my driver's licence, they ask. I answer, why should I, when sitting behind the wheel would take the magic away? Instead of dreaming about where this road that I have travelled so many times before leads, I would have to concentrate on the road itself and remember which of the numerous regulations I had to learn applies here. Sitting behind the wheel doesn't mean freedom of going wherever I want. It means to be locked into a set of rules. Not to mention the responsibilit...

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Mysterious tale on the Silver Arrow Train

Submitted to Contest #293

As a freelance writer specializing in mysteries, epic adventures, and crime, I find myself on a train, a storm brewing on the horizon.Mysterious fog appeared, just as it disappeared and sounds crazy, but this is not an ordinary train.The Silver Arrow train, notorious since 1865 for its plethora of incredible ghost stories, became the focus of my investigation, where I sought to determine the verifiable truth behind the legends.Since my earliest memories, Spirit-Walker, always felt alienated, and have never believed this world is natural.Real...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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