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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

5280+ 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 352 of 353

The Color of Love

Submitted to Contest #28

The Color of LoveThe day I left my parent’s home to strike out on my own, I never expected a life-changing encounter like the one that happened to me. I had been raised to love everyone, and to me, that meant regardless of race, color, or creed. Not to infer that I set out to find a man that my parents would so vehemently oppose, it just happened that way.Firstly, everything about my short time in the military was a struggle. I had to fight to get into the Army due to my gender and size, I fought every day to overcome issues like simply marc...

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A Secret Fear

Submitted to Contest #28

My late brother Chris and I were having a conversation one of those many times at the end of the day when he needed a toke. I would light up the joint, hold it to his lips, then pull it away after he inhaled. He would hold onto the smoke for a minute, exhale, then take a second, then a third. I’d puff on it sometimes, but home was twenty to forty minutes away by car. He lived up in the Oakland Hills, and I had to get back to San Francisco. Nowadays, you can count on an hour or more in travel time anytime you have to ...

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The Most Beautiful Person

Submitted to Contest #28

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever met," they said. Not in unison, but in different timelines. The first person said this to me in high school. The teacher had arranged a seating plan for the whole class and we ended up seating next to each other. He sat on my left, and him being on my left put me in an advantage of drawing art over his notebooks and papers because I was a lefty and our armchairs accommodated right-handed people. The first one was a genius in class, a Salutatorian. I had to rely on him to pass a certain subject duri...

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The On-Again, Off-Agains

Submitted to Contest #28

We are wandering through a Hobby Lobby at six o’clock. Aisle after aisle stretches in every direction, creating a disfigured checkerboard of craft supplies. Christian music glides through the surround speakers as if you could walk through the doors in the back and straight up to the pearly gates. On one rack, one can find every print of duct tape imaginable. On another, there are picture frames of all shapes and sizes for any artwork or photo one might wish to frame. A long rectangular aisle sports a vast array of stickers—textured and not. ...

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Rubik's Cube

Submitted to Contest #28

He was a Rubik's cube.I realized that when he told me those five dreadful words that I'd never forget: "It's not you, it's me."I could only solve one part of a Rubik's cube. Solving one color was enough. The rest was a waste of time. And he reminded me of it. What I saw in him was basically just one side, one color. I never knew he had other colors that he hid really well or colors that I failed to see.It's so ironic that we humans have eyes to see, but sometimes end up not using them in situations like these. We become blinded by pleasure, ...

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We Are Crew, Not Passengers

Submitted to Contest #28

“Ok, now Logan. What is the first moment we remember with Logan?” I leaned into the table, my elbows digging into the polished, glossy wood. The giggles coming from around me were punctuated with glances over at a short boy with light skin and shaved hair that sat at the opposite end of the table from myself, pursing his lips at the attention as he had done for years.  There were ten of us, all seated around the table on benches, in a cabin nestled in the middle of Jawbone Flats, Opal Creek Forest. It was the last field trip for us as a...

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The Two Kingdoms

Submitted to Contest #27

Ice crystals began to form along the pine trees that surround the gated kingdom. The one with the walls so high, you can’t see in or out. With the towers made of stain glass. They tell a story of the past. A harsh, painful one that brought the kingdom to its glory. One of respect and dignity. In that kingdom lies a prince. Young, full of grace and loyal to his people. He wears a coat of blues and reds. A crown of silver, with rows of ruby’s lining the prestige that resides upon his black locks. It was said for century’s he would be the one t...

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An Outspoken Angel

Submitted to Contest #25

As Aella Boylen walked down the main street of Shiloh, she was a funny sight, her ears and face flushed strawberry bright from the cold. Her dwarvish body tramped through the snow loudly, her petite figure rounder by the many layers she had on. She walked past chocolate shops and Christmas stores that were desperately trying to get rid of their holiday merchandise before February. She walked past rows of boutiques and pubs before stopping at an odd, large bookstore labeled Boylen’s Books.Removing a small key from her pocket, she stomped the ...

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Biggest Lie Ever Told

Submitted to Contest #25

January 1, 2020. I grumbled as I glanced at the calendar that hung on the wall next to my shiny desktop. I snorted and headed toward my small kitchen and fetched myself a hot, steaming cup of coffee. I have always hated this time of year, for it means that my family expects me at their house for their annual activity: New Year’s resolutions. I headed back to my desk and sat. As I turned on my desktop PC, I glanced one more time at the calendar and at the date. A thought came into my gray matter. Perhaps I could continue with my family’s trad...

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The Voice

Submitted to Contest #16

Dear Someone,I never much believed in God’s existence.I grew up an only child with strict religious parents who practiced their faith almost twenty-four seven. Whenever I did something wrong, I was forced to kneel down and pray and atone for my sins by doing labor. Because I’m a girl, I have to do the softest kinds of labor. Most of the time I was asked by my mother to hold up my hands midair until the end of the day. I couldn’t remember a day when I didn’t do that simple yet arduous task. There were even times I wondered if I’m ever going t...

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Fairies tell no truth

Submitted to Contest #16

"That's what I have to do?""Yes, a small offering, and your biggest desire shall be fulfilled." Crystal stood there twiddling her thumbs, eyeing the sparkling fairy. All of a sudden the act itself frightened her. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me anymore?" "Oh but I do. I just-" "You built my fairy house and invited me to stay," the flying creature told its host. "I thought you wanted my friendship and company." "Oh I do!" The young woman rushed to cup the little thing's feet. With tears in her eyes, holding on ...

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Why Plastic Really Isn't As Bad As Everyone Wants You To Believe

Submitted to Contest #15

I've seen SO many articles recently about the evils of plastic, so I thought I'd write my own article to set the record straight. Plastic isn't that bad! This is the real truth: the cotton industry teamed up with the government to brainwash the public into thinking plastic was harmful so that everyone would buy reusable bags made of cotton. Personally, I like to be an informed citizen. So here I am to debunk all the myths about plastic you've been led to believe.First of all, people are saying plastic never decomposes.&nb...

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Black Feline

Submitted to Contest #13

It always gets worse, or at least more frequent, on Halloween. It began twenty years ago, just before the first anniversary of her passing on 11/3/1998. I was with her for her last breath. She used the last of her strength to make her way to me and lied down at my feet. That was the last time she put her trust in me instead of finding shelter to die, just as her mom did five years earlier. She routinely trusted me above all others and above her own natural instincts. What was different, was that she growled at me for the first time in her ...

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Santa Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Submitted to Contest #11

Everyone has a special place that defined their childhood--a place of many happy memories.Anyone who grew up in Rochester NY from the 60's to the 90's knows about Midtown Plaza. It was the first indoor mall in the U.S. Many children growing up in Rochester have been to Midtown at Christmas time to Santa on Magic Mountain and ride the Monorail--a miniature train that was suspended from a track that circled the second floor of the mall. The mall had an open layout. Most of the restaurants were on the second floor. There weren't many and it did...

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Isolated Thunderstorms in the Morning, Sunny in the Afternoon

Submitted to Contest #11

Wow, what a tiny space! If I tried to crawl under there, it would feel a lot tighter than before, but I think... umph... not impossible. Nope, it's not impossible. I'm animate. I live and I grew, but this bed cannot. It's logical, yes, but my mind can't seem to make sense of it. Was I really so small? Was this really the bed? I was and it is. So I used to come under here... hm, because I was tired sometimes? No. It was because... ouch, it was because I was afraid. The pain I felt is coming back to me, rushing in and right by my heart. It's a...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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