5410+ 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 361 of 361

Black Feline

AL Paradiso

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

Annie James

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

Hamadryad 77

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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Wolf Aaron and the Wild Sceptre

Zilla Babbitt

Shortlisted for Contest #10 ⭐️

He was a stranger, and he was strange. He had thick black hair and spiky handwriting and he stuttered.He was an odd one out, and he didn’t know if he was loved.His name was Aaron.Aaron was young, with strong fingernails and a typing score of two hundred words a minute. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. He was in the tenth grade and he was a shunned oddball.Poor Aaron. He did not talk very much. He had red, scarred fingers from a long-ago fire, and though he was smart, not many of the kids knew it, because he kept his mouth s...

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Precious People

Hamadryad 77

Submitted to Contest #9

Dear Brother, Fun fact: This is a letter you do not have to write back to. You have more supreme duties to focus your strength on and I do not want to distract you. I, on the other hand, am not married and doubt my life is ever headed in that direction. I have plenty of time to revisit things past and things as they could have been. The main purpose of this letter: To pour out my thoughts to you, as I was used to doing. Barred from owning your attention and relying on you as a brother, I am now unable to do so in person with any real satisfa...

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A Little Help

AL Paradiso

Submitted to Contest #4

A Little HelpIt was the right thing to do. So I was told; so I believed. Focus on my job for twenty years and it will provide for my family for life—good salary while working, good pension and benefits afterwards. Finding the discomfort of a stable job like that took several wasted years. During those years, I made many friends. Few of those would be with me far beyond the typical transient cycle of fickle friends. Though years and distance separated us, I stayed in touch with one friend from college. Support and care were obvious during our...

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Blue Skies

John K Adams

Submitted to Contest #2

 Blue SkiesMartha’s boss, Walter, caught her eye as she pulled her pay envelope from her box. “Let’s talk,” he said. He turned and stepped into his office. Martha didn’t want to miss her bus. When that happened, her whole schedule got thrown off. Ordinarily, getting called into a meeting at day’s end on a Friday would be cause for anxiety. Those meetings were always bad news.Being one of the newspaper’s best ad sales people, Martha wasn’t worried. They needed her.Walter indicated the chair when she entered. There goes the bus, thought M...

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