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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

150+ Drama Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Being one of the most popular genres among the submissions to our weekly contest, the drama short stories collected below include riveting works you won’t want to miss.

Drama Short Stories – Page 7 of 10

Damn You Chicken Little

Submitted to Contest #308

{Author note: the childhood dreams in the first part of this story are true, and then to a great extent the technology in the second part actually exists, some of it personally experienced} Oh! My heart is thumping so hard I’m afraid it may leap from my chest. This is the very thing I dreamed about when I was little Katie Jo. What I had never imagined in the waking state was that some day it could actually exist. From the time I was around five till probably nine, I had a recurring dream, always so vivid and still in full force upon waking, ...

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She Waited Anyway

Submitted to Contest #307

I was walking along Beach Road in Poole, Dorset—my third visit this month—trying to clear my head before her next round of scans. The sea wind sliced through my coat, and mist rolled in as if it had somewhere urgent to be, sending my hands retreating deep into my sleeves. That’s when I noticed it: a red phone booth beside a squat row of shuttered shops, just before the old wooden pier. Glass fogged at the corners, paint flaking at the seams—a relic from another life, left behind in 2025 like it missed its ride out of time.We honeymooned here...

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Secret Society for Journalistic Terrorists

Submitted to Contest #307

Louis typed like ticker tape. Click click click. His ginger hair jittered like fire and his fingers worked in a fury of resentment. Beside him, drafts, abandoned, scribbled in red pen, scrunched into balls, folded into origami, paper planes and cranes. A pile I’d have to burn later. Somewhere a telephone rang. He looked up, cigarette dangled, grey ash curling backwards towards his lips. ‘Don’t answer that,’ he said. ‘What if it’s Jules,’ I said. A pause. Louis nodded, keys pressed down again like automatic fire. I squeezed between two le...

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Ambition

Submitted to Contest #307

The children at my old school were stupid, silly little things. They pranced and frolicked and got drunk and got pregnant and skipped class and vaped like ferrets in dank little bathrooms. Disgusting, I would think as I walked into those linoleum hallways. Really, where would they go after wasting their high school years this way? They didn’t have a clue. I did. I was the one who was going to spend the rest of my days reading books and drinking brandy somewhere cold. I was the one who was going to Woodsley. So I led clubs and worked on pass...

5 likes 1 comment 1
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Zealous Representation

Submitted to Contest #307

WARNING: Story contains one veiled reference to sexual assault and some use of profanity. Ryan Reed, third-year law student, sat in the last row of the large classroom. It wasn’t assigned seating, but he always sat in the back. It was less crowded, he had more room for his six-foot frame, and the professors picked on the back rows less. The Constitutional Law professor had been droning on, and on, and on, and since ...

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Quick Study

Submitted to Contest #307

“Well, by that point, I was starving, filthy, and exhausted. But I’d done what I set out to do; I’d made the greatest discovery of my career.”“I see.” I take a sip from my glass of fine port and lean back into the comfortable embrace of my soft leather wing chair. “Absolutely fascinating, my friend. Sounds like you had quite a thrilling time of it.”“You can say that again.” My colleague, Dr. Arnold Mason, shudders, a far-away look in his eyes. He’s the very picture of an archaeologist: tall, leanly muscular, sun-bleached hair, sporting a tan...

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A Fool with Hands

Submitted to Contest #307

“Get over yourself!”My ears ring when she smacks me across the face. My nose is sore and congested with blood, and it soils my white collar with a musty tang. My knees hit the ground, and my hands tremble in front of my face, but she still yanks my ear and throws me down with no mercy. I lose every breath when she kicks me in the stomach and repeats what she can’t seem to get off her chest.“Stop bothering me, Karma!”I swallow blood as I hold the ache in my stomach. She’s with a group of her friends, the ones who hate me just as much as she d...

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The Ghost Ledger: The Rise and Fall of The Giant Finance Hub

Submitted to Contest #307

Prologue: The Bank That Wasn’tIn the winter of 1972, a man with elegant Urdu and impeccable English walked into a palatial office in London. He carried no weapon, no briefcase—only a vision. Within months, that vision would evolve into The Inst., a financial labyrinth that didn’t just hold money—it held influence, and more than that, secrets. It operated not from one headquarters, but from many shadows.From Panama to Karachi, London to Lagos, The Inst. embedded itself like a ghost into the arteries of global finance. It lent to rulers withou...

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What Changes Us

Submitted to Contest #307

The classroom door flies open. A young woman rushes out, slamming into my side. We tumble to the ground. Rubbing my shoulder, I ask, “Hey, are you okay?” She breaths sharply through her nose, “I’m fine; just the perfect ending to my trainwreck of a class.“I’m sure it’s not that bad. And if it is you can take the class again.”“It’s not the course. It’s the damn teacher.”My eyes dart to the nameplate beside the door. Etched on it are the words Mr. Wheatley. My organs flipflop.“Is he really that bad?”I help her collect the books that had pumme...

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The Wiltshire Discovery

Submitted to Contest #307

Henry rode his mare through his family’s estate, the lynchets he had known since he was old enough to be walked down to the cherry tree stream by his late mother, and of which he knew every growing kidney vetch and cowslip that graced the tight-mown grasses, but which harbored a monstrous curiosity he had never before seen.Worthmund was the name of his mare; a strong beast who impressed the most judicious onlookers with her proportions and statuesque physique— strong enough to best an ox in its prime, but with the stately grace of Arabian sh...

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Justice for Eric

Submitted to Contest #307

The pivotal moment in the recording came when Eric insisted that he get out of Kari-Ann’s car, so he could try to find his own way home. Kari-Ann was pissed with him, considering him to be ungrateful, so she insisted he just get out of the car and walk all the way home in the dark of the night. A few more words were exchanged, then Eric finally got out of the car. But the recording continued when he went after Kari-Ann, even as she drove away. Kari-Ann was debating whether to return to the party at Daphne’s house or not, with Eric challengi...

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One of God's Own

Submitted to Contest #307

Hannah Crowley never believed in second chances. She barely felt in the first ones.Her life had been about herself—her ambitions, her desires, her choices that never considered the cost. Then, one night, everything changed.The crash was violent. The world faded to black.When she opened her eyes, she wasn't in the wreckage. She wasn't in a hospital.She was somewhere else.A silver glow surrounded her, weightless, unearthly. And standing before her was Grace, an elder angel, warm-eyed and steady."You're not ready to live," Grace told her. "And ...

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The Memory Kitchen

Submitted to Contest #307

Title: The Memory Kitchen Synopsis: In a kitchen where meals remember the past, a woman cooks her way toward a future she thought she'd lost. Author Bio: A person who truly has a genuine passion for the written word. Delivering the word is everything. Melinda St. James discovered the kitchen timer on the third day in the house. The timer was tucked behind a false panel in the pantry—a brass pear with curling edges engraved with a faint fleur-de-lis that shimmered when the light caught just right. When she turned it in her hand, it hummed gen...

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Quorum

Submitted to Contest #307

“How many do we need for a quorum?” Gretchen asked. She had asked ten times.“Fifteen,” Amanda reminded her. As PTA board secretary, Amanda knew the bylaws better than anyone.They walked up the long bus loop away from the parking lot to the main school entrance. The light at the door was a smeary glow in the drizzle. Wet this May evening and unseasonably cold. Sometimes families used the school playground or soccer field, but not tonight. Waves of rain all day, spoiling Field Day and forcing the kids indoors for recess. And everyone hated ind...

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Seat 14

Submitted to Contest #307

The train was packed like a recurring nightmare on its 6:15 AM journey.The air was thick with a mysterious blend of damp paper, cheap perfume, and the remnants of truncated dreams whose endings were never reached.Shoulders pressed together without affection, eyes extinguished as if their owners had been torn from another life against their will. Martin Castle, thirty-four years old, a sales employee at an electrical appliances company.He sat in seat 14 by the window, as he did every morning, and lifted his brown leather briefcase onto his la...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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