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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

150+ East asian Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Discover the best new stories by East Asian authors.

East asian Short Stories – Page 2 of 10

A Tragedy at Sea

Submitted to Contest #301

SENSITIVE CONTENT WARNING: Death, GriefTamae Mitsufuji had just turned nineteen. It was the sixteenth of December, 1946.Tamae and her grandfather had just spent the night at her aunt’s house on Shikoku, one of the main islands in southern Japan. They were returning to Hakatajima, a nearby small island with a population of about a thousand, on which they lived.She stepped out into the dry and dusty road. It was cold outside, and she could see her breath condensing when she exhaled. The sky was a clear, deep blue, and the air was still. She wa...

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Eur Ok?

Submitted to Contest #301

There are 492 one star reviews of the miniprogram and 678 for the app. It’s my job to respond to each new bad review. Of all the things we’ve replaced humans with, somehow this has followed me for the last six years. “We take your feedback seriously and understand your frustration.” I mean it’s mainly cut and paste, but it is still my cuts, my paste. It’s a dating site for Asian men, mostly Chinese, seeking foreign girlfriends. It used to be called Eurodate. But the company is based in the US not Europe so that somehow seemed misleading. I...

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Beneath It All

Submitted to Contest #300

The emaciated corpse lay cloaked under a Union Jack flag, the dried blood staining the cement beneath. It was an odd scene, even for the eyes of seasoned Hong Kong Police Detective Angus Poon, and he immediately knew this case could spell trouble.His partner, Wong, a rookie barely six months out of the academy, fidgeted nervously beside him. “Did you know about the tunnels here?” he asked.Poon didn’t answer. He’d walked past Leighton Hill countless times and never noticed the tunnel entrances. Ten years in the force, and the city still found...

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The Wandering Donkey

Submitted to Contest #300

THE WANDERING DONKEY “Let me carry those bags for you, Mama Mu.” Mama Mu glanced at her slight companion with a baby strapped to her back. “San-nu, I may be 15 years your senior, but I’m not old and feeble.” Laughing, she stretched her ample arms out wide, almost hitting a man walking in the opposite direction. He ducked just in time. They walked amongst other holiday travelers on the undulating trail, which threaded the villages in eastern Zhejiang province together. “No, no. I didn’t mean you were weak, but you saved me and my baby. If i...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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The Garden of Lonely Fools

Submitted to Contest #300

A century from now, it will be burned to the ground by a horde of zealots. They will believe in modern fashion and old-fashioned ideals. I’m glad I’ll never get to meet them. My children might--if they live an abnormally long life. Their father told me when we finalized our divorce that at the very last moment of his life, he would forgive me all my sins. Yes, he had a god complex, but he was also a god, so the complex comes with the territory. His name was Shamash, and he was the Babylonian God of the Sun, who was killed by Sin, the Goddess...

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which one does it make friendship better?

Submitted to Contest #300

After I worked as an actor at a small local theater, I rushed out of the theater to meet my best friend, Mari.I arrived first and I turned around.“There she is,” I said in my head. She was walking toward me with a plastic bag, wearing baggy jeans and a black leather jacket front open. Her long dark hair was floating in the wind.She is a quiet introverted person, and the most intelligent and insightful person I know.We were at “our place”, a long dusty white table attached to a waist height wall that divide the river and the ground. The river...

4 likes 2 comments 2
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The Last Lantern

Submitted to Contest #296

The lanterns swing above the main street. They are lit day and night, flickering a bright yellow light that never goes out. It has always been this way. Lin runs along the stone road until she reaches the right lantern, a gold sphere with red flower patterns. She talks a mile a minute as she sprinkles the incense powder over the coals inside an incense burner. She leaves a small cup of her mother's favorite tea and a few plump oranges. Then she darts off, continuing on her way to collect firewood in the forest. That night, the wind blows vi...

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A prickly situation

Submitted to Contest #296

Meeting the prisoner on death row caused my skin to prickle as if a porcupine had walked over me. ‘Take a deep breath. It doesn’t matter what horrendous crime has been committed and she now resides in this hideous jail. She is still a human being with a soul and deserves dignity as her death approaches.’ I told myself. At first her voice was shrill and as sharp as barbed wire; as we talked of ordinary things her tone became less prickly. She must have felt comfortable with me because she asked me to call her by her inmate nickname “Old Shazz...

17 likes 1 comment 1
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Letters to Surabaya

Submitted to Contest #294

Letters to SurabayaDearest Daniel,                                              28/8/93I ‘ve just got home from the airport and I miss you already. When you left, you took the better part of me with you.How am I going to get through the next year without you?It’s too hard.I can’t write any more.I have no soul. ...

4 likes 1 comment 1
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Apocalpyse Crying

Submitted to Contest #294

Their horses are more nimble than leopards and swifter than wolves in the evening: their horsemen will spread out. And then their horsemen will approach from far away: they will fly like the eagle, hurrying to devour. Habakkuk 1:8 Lieutenant Paul Zimmerman clutched the side of his slick as it cut through the air towards destiny. Or at least that’s what Captain Murdock told him. He wasn’t sure that it was his destiny. He was here because he followed orders. The Army drilled that into his brain during basic training. Those orders meant that Pa...

11 likes 7 comments 7
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The Woman on the Train

Submitted to Contest #293

The train car trundled along steadily, only slowing for the occasional station. While clean, the age of the train was obvious. The wall panels were dark, lacquered wood, matching the floor and bench seats. Shelves with woven nets for luggage ran along the length on both sides. Spots along the handrails had been rubbed shiny over the years, nearly as shiny as the polished brass fittings adorning most surfaces. The rich red fabric of the bench cushions and backing had worn thin in places, and some of the cushions were flatter than others. A si...

3 likes 0 comments 0
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Left Behind in Fukushima

Submitted to Contest #293

I’m sitting on a coach bus at 7 a.m., staring out the window, scanning the streets for tourists. This isn’t where I thought I’d be. Not after graduating with a Master’s in International Relations, fluent in two languages, and ready to take on the world. But here I am.Outside, the street is quiet. I spot him—our last passenger, a foreigner in a blue T-shirt and shorts, looking as if he’s searching for something. I jump out of the bus, waving him over, holding my clipboard. It’s my way of taking control. A trick I learned from my manager.He ap...

43 likes 36 comments 36
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The Universal Obsession of Max Preensworthy

Submitted to Contest #291

This is the story of Max Preensworthy, a man addicted to exactly the same thing as you or I. I'll come back to that. First about Max: Max is almost 52, so his childhood is almost lost to him. His school teachers have forgotten him and he has no close friends. If cats lived longer, one would remember him. He remembers her.  It was England, 1973, Max was ten years old. Every morning he skirted Lister’s Farm to avoid the snapping sheepdogs, crossed a couple of empty fields, and walked along the back of a row of sandstone cottages to Chinsb...

33 likes 14 comments 14
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Asian Pears

Submitted to Contest #290

“Would you be interested in going back in time?” asked Dr Lee.That caught Mary’s attention. She snapped her gaze away from the window and, though she knew how impossible it would be, she eagerly responded, “What do you mean? How?”“Through your memories, of course,“ clarified Dr. Lee.Mary's brow furrowed. She crossed her arms, and leaned back into the sofa.  “Pffft, Dr. Lee, you’ve been my therapist for months now. You know how badly I wish I could go back in time. Please don’t taunt me like that.”“I’m sorry, that was never my inten...

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Shadows of Nagasaki

Submitted to Contest #290

The long, boring summer days stretched endlessly, each one blending into the next like the slow, languid waves kissing the beach shore. The heat in Tokyo was oppressive, a heavy blanket that smothered the city and its inhabitants. Keiko, ever resourceful, had fashioned paper fans for her three younger sisters. Their laughter and chatter filled the small, cozy home, a lively contrast to the muffled murmurs drifting from the kitchen. There, their mother sat, a newspaper clutched tightly in one hand and the corded telephone pressed to her ear, ...

5 likes 1 comment 1
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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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