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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.

5440+ 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 6 of 363

First Confession

Submitted to Contest #300

Fuming, Sister Agatha slammed the desk with her hand. Everyone in the classroom sat up, bleary eyed, and stared. The subject, written on the blackboard, was ‘My First Confession.’ Sr. Agatha was well practiced at preparing first graders for this milestone. It was a big deal. She said, “Once again, thank you for your attention. Your first confession is tomorrow. If you’re not ready, I won’t be the one who suffers.” Her threat was not lost on anyone.One of the boys at the back of the classroom mumbled something and a wave of giggles spread thr...

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He Wasn't My Friend

Submitted to Contest #301

When I lived in Fargo at 25, I decided it was finally time to make my first male friend. My old roommate Leidy made guy friendships seem easy, a concept completely alien to me. I’d had deep friendships all my life—just never with anyone who owned cargo shorts.Leidy and I met at 22 through AmeriCorps. We were assigned to a town in rural Wisconsin we’d never heard of and had never met before signing the lease. Rent was only manageable because we split it, and volunteering on the nearby reservation paid in character growth more than cash.Main S...

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Disaster at Sea

Submitted to Contest #301

Disaster At Sea:The hum of the submarine’s engines was a constant companion, a low growl that vibrated through the steel walls of the torpedo room. I’d grown used to it over the months, the way it seeped into your bones, became part of you. Down here, in the belly of the USS ‘Triton’, the world was reduced to metal, machinery, and the endless rhythm of the sea. I was a torpedoman’s mate, third class, and this was my domain: the long, sleek Mark 48s lined up in their racks, the hydraulic loaders, the control panels blinking with their steady ...

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THE SKELETON IN MY HEAD AND THE MAN WITH THE PEN

Submitted to Contest #301

You know that moment when you drop a sarcastic comment on Facebook and, instead of sparking a fight with a random idiot, you end up finding the love of your life?Yeah, me neither.Not until I cracked open my crusty-ass keyboard and casually fired off a passive-aggressive opinion about books.Books. The fucking irony.Because me? I was a woman with more emotional scar tissue than well-written paragraphs. A walking anthology of unresolved trauma and questionable coping mechanisms. And somehow, that led me straight into the inbox of a writer. Not ...

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The Promise

Submitted to Contest #301

Note: This story contains a brief mention of sexual violence, suicidal ideation, and mental health. As President Cook stepped into the church gymnasium filled with missionaries in their black suits and white shirts, gossiping around twelve or so round tables, I knew he was looking for me. I sat at a table near the door President Cook entered through, pressed in between two larger, toned missionaries who had lived in Southern California for months longer than I had. Their experience, their body mass, their overall worthiness to be here as Mo...

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The Exacerbationist

Submitted to Contest #301

The Exacerbationist: do you like that? I made it up. I mean, there has to be a singular word to describe someone for whom Fate lurks around every unexpected corner waiting to give a swift kick up the ass. Enter your author, looking warily behind him. And I promise, all that follows is the unadulterated truth, blow by blow, as it happened. Forget poetic licence - you couldn’t make it up!There is a small town in the south west of the UK that was more California than California is now, even before the Summer of Love. Still is. It’s known as the...

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The Light from the Keyhole

Submitted to Contest #300

Just to give you an idea of some of the ups and downs in my life:I have been left in a trash can—left for dead.I have been surrounded by a loving family.I have been homeless under a bridge, with stolen blankets to keep warm, scraping mold off a pot of beans I cooked on a fire.I have pulled up to a $500,000 house with my beautiful wife after a three-course meal at a five-star restaurant, in my $120,000 truck, to sleep in a giant bed in a place we built together.I have been surrounded by true friends and family who wanted the absolute best for...

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Senjed

Submitted to Contest #300

My hands are buried in the sand. The sand in Barcelona is rough—it hurts your bare feet. But the breeze from the sea feels heavenly. It's mid-May, and the temperature is perfect, with a gentle sun above.As I let the sand flow through my fingers, I notice the stub of a cigarette, stained with a mark of red lipstick.This cigarette with the red lipstick reminds me of my great-aunt—my mom’s aunt. She used to visit us for family events, traveling from the capital, the big city of Iran. This time, it was for her niece’s wedding—my real aunt. As al...

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Blue Jean Interview

Submitted to Contest #301

It was a hot summer day in July, when I received a surprise telephone call. I was sitting at my desk at work when my cell phone rang. As I search my purse to find my phone, I started to worry because not that many people called me on my cell phone. The reason is because I never have it on. It’s a personal joke shared between my family and friends.So, when I finally found it, I said hello in a weak voice to the mystery person on the other end.“Hello, can I speak to Tori” the mystery person who I now know is a man said. “Speaking” I said...

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Beneath the Surface

Submitted to Contest #300

“All ready, miss?”I look at the cheery receptionist beaming at me. If only I had that much energy at four in the morning. Then again, it’s her job: to sit behind that desk and smile at people like me.I nod in return. I’m not a morning person. Hell, I can’t even pretend to be one. The one time I stuck to a morning routine was when I made a bet with my therapist that I would get up out of bed at 7 am, every morning, for a month. And all for one free therapy session. Well, I still managed to win that bet, but had the routine stuck? Not exactly....

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Saving Grace

Submitted to Contest #300

It is hell being in a place where we don’t feel we exist. A voice not heard and where our wisdom falls on deaf ears. A heart yearning for love when there is nothing left to give. Self-esteem living in the toilet and the promise of tomorrow being another day that feels already like it precludes hope and where pride already takes a dive, long before it falls and where ridicule robs our confidence to go after our dreams for fear of failure let alone tempt the bigger fear of success by poking that proverbial sleeping bear.Sound familiar?Welcome ...

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Drumtochty Castle

Submitted to Contest #300

Drumtochty Castle Drumtochty was our school, set in the Scottish Highland hills an hour’s drive south-east of Aberdeen. Auchenblae village is the last outpost on your way, then two more miles into the narrow glen, through the stone pillars flanking the gate, past the long green stretch that was once our playing fields and up the drive winding steeply through the trees. ‘So, where’s the school then Dad?’, asked Emilia on our visit. Right on cue, the green canopy opened. The high flag fluttering, the battlements, the lofty arched windows of o...

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FOUNDATIONS (The Story of Us)

Submitted to Contest #300

It was our first time meeting somewhere to spend an entire weekend together after our initial 3 dates—each lasting 9 hours!—in Warsaw 23 days earlier. He had flown all the way from England to meet me at the Polish Seaside in a charming town called ‘Sopot.’At the time, I didn’t know what illness specifically I was suffering from, but I knew I was very ill with whatever was still waiting to be diagnosed. I was so exhausted and defeated from living in this state for going on a seventh month at that point, that the image of me in a doctor’s offi...

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3314 Keystone Avenue

Submitted to Contest #300

3314 Keystone AvenueGary GrissomAbout twenty years ago, my sister Kathy and I decided to take a drive from Temecula, California back to a small section of west Los Angeles called Palms. It is near Culver City where the MGM studios used to be. This was going to be a “sentimental journey” for us in that we had lived with our family on 3314 Keystone Avenue from the summer of 1955 to the fall of 1958.The house was very old and Palms was a very old neighborhood. We were the last family to live in that house. It was going to be torn down and an ap...

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A Precious Package

Submitted to Contest #300

The telegram arrived after dark bearing the cryptic message: a package is ready for delivery. Six short words, yet much hung on their import. These words were followed by an address. Christina Akka*, smoothed her graying hair and twisted it into a knot. She snatched her ready-made duffle, wrapped her plain, cotton sari neatly, and slipped wordlessly through the high gate. Her flashlight bobbed bravely as she headed down the sandy road to the bus stop. The road ran through Dohnavur village, a cluster of earthen dwellings with thatched roofs a...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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