Menu

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Featured stories
Activity feed

Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

150+ Fiction Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. If you’re looking for the best fiction short stories to read online, we’ve got you covered. Wide-ranging and ever-curious, these free short stories will meet your reading needs.

Fiction Short Stories – Page 9 of 10

The Man Without a Head

Submitted to Contest #315

I am 17, and I watch the man across from me as he sits alone at a small, weathered table. The wood is chipped and faded, with hints of its original color peeking through the worn surface. The man’s fingers drum a restless rhythm on the battered tabletop, his other hand absentmindedly tracing circles around the slender neck of a wine glass. His shirt bears deep maroon stains, resembling dark roses blooming from his chest and trailing downward. Yet, my concern does not lie in his stained shirt or his actions; it does not stem from my ignoranc...

5 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

The Fourth Watch

Submitted to Contest #315

The storm had been building for hours. Piotr could feel it in the way the air pressed against his skin—thick, heavy, and charged as if the whole sky was about to split open. The harbor behind them was no longer a place but a smear of yellow lights blurred by the curtain of rain. Waves rose and fell like moving walls of black glass, and every few seconds the boat would drop into a hollow so deep his stomach lurched. The timbers groaned under the strain.It was just before dawn. The fourth watch. The hour when the night was deepest, when the co...

10 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

Jack Macintosh: The Perpetual Carrot III: The Penny-A-Page Press & Shakespeare's Pen

Submitted to Contest #315

The quarter was gone from my pocket, but the ghost of it lingered. A small, cold bit of metal that represented a kid’s hope, and a problem that had burrowed into my gut like a woodworm. The air in Cedar Falls had only gotten thicker since Leo left, a wet blanket of heat that clung to the skin. My office was a refuge, the old building's cool air a tired sigh against the oppressive summer. My fedora still sat perched on a stack of unread books, and I was on my third grape Dum Dum of the hour, the sweet, artificial taste doing nothing to cut th...

18 likes 8 comments 8
Read story

The day my birth changed things

Submitted to Contest #315

Hello everyone, this story will be told with some nonfiction parts from my life and fiction with the character I use. His name will be Shadow Angel, not to be confused with Shadow the hedgehog, but his nickname is echo. Hope y'all like the story. *note there will be mention of physical abuse and mental illness; Anxiety, Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) or better known as Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). My birth was not really planned at all, I don't think my dad or grandmother really wanted me around. I was born to a couple in ...

1 like 0 comments 0
Read story

Clear the Clouds

Submitted to Contest #315

“This is an exceptionally stupid idea.” “All I got out of that were the words ‘exceptional’ and ‘idea’. So thank you, I guess, for the compliment.” “Your hearing is exceptionally awful.” “Again, with the compliments! Thank you, Iris. Makin' me blush over here.” Eva's giggle floats down from her place above me, warming me all the way through despite the cooling temperature outside. I roll my eyes up to the heavens and fight to keep the smile from forming on my face. The sky is midnight dark with a smattering of twinkling stars. I've never be...

2 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

Soft and Slow

Submitted to Contest #315

It was well past Midnight, and the hour had come for the good to fall into a restless slumber. Silence stretched in a thin anticipation, and the room, lit only by a small flickering candle, knew what was to come and could not stop it; for in the coldest hour of the night, the good awake was ready to be devoured by the wicked.Evie sat awake on the edge of her bed, clutching a knife in her trembling hands. Tom stood across the room, observing a painting on the wall, nursing the last remnants of a cigarette. The air smelt of honey and smoke, “A...

2 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Interview 2 - Markus [the ex-boyfriend]

Submitted to Contest #315

[TW - the following fictional interview excerpt contains mention of emotional abuse] “Let’s start with how you met Georgiana?”We met at my High School formal in November twenty-eleven. I went to an all-boy private school, and she went to an all-girl private school. Gin — Sorry, I called her Ginny. Ginny went with a mate of mine, Oliver “Ollie” Harper, who was a closeted gay at the time and figured taking Ginny would stop the teasing. I went stag as I broke up with my cheating ex shortly before the event.By the time I showed up, they were alr...

8 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Hi, My Name is Ray

Submitted to Contest #315

The fog slowly lifts from Ray’s brain and, in doing so, Ray discovers he is standing in the middle of the Joseph Muller Bridge. The Connecticut River sluggishly flows beneath, lights reflecting on its surface. Ray thinks the water looks like the night sky, dark and unfathomable. He slowly blinks. The sound of traffic grabs his attention, and he turns to look. There’s a fair amount of traffic, and he’s not in a walkway.Suddenly, Ray is gripped by an attack of nausea. He swirls around and begins vomiting over the railing. Over and over....

11 likes 8 comments 8
Read story

Wishing on Dandelions

Submitted to Contest #315

“Dandelions—now that’s one tough weed, I tell ya. If you’re the glass-half-full sort, like your gran’ ma was, you might say they start out all bright and yella, like little bits of sunshine scattered ‘cross the yard. But then, just like that, overnight, the pretty’s gone. What you’ve got left is a stubborn ol’ taproot buried deeper than sin, ugly spiky leaves stickin’ out of the root crown—like it’s mad at the world, and a mess o’ seeds ridin’ the wind, lookin’ for fresh ground to cause more trouble. And sure as summer’s long, they’ll be bac...

7 likes 4 comments 4
Read story

Miles and Trust

Submitted to Contest #315

The old Chevrolet's engine coughed as John pulled into the gravel lot of Mae's Diner, somewhere outside Valdosta, Georgia. In the passenger seat, Bruno lifted his graying muzzle and gave John that look—the one that said his twelve-year-old joints needed a break from the road."I know, boy," John murmured, scratching behind the Labrador's ears. "Just need coffee and we'll find a place to sleep."Three months on the road. Three months since he'd walked into his house to find his wife Sarah in their bed with his best friend. Three months since hi...

3 likes 6 comments 6
Read story

Bettelheim’s Theory in 1964

Submitted to Contest #315

He was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen. He was born on May 9, 1961. His eyes were stunningly blue, and his thin strands of hair were white. He was my first child, and while holding him on my lap, I was overcome with emotion. I never knew I could love someone so much. I waited with the nurse in a wheelchair outside the hospital for my husband to bring the car around. I was looking forward to going home since the nurses took my baby boy away from me to bring him to the nursery a lot. “Sleep now, you won’t get any rest after you go home,"...

0 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

September 7th

Submitted to Contest #315

The first time I noticed the date was on a bus ad that should’ve been selling teeth whitening or mattresses. White font on black, nothing else: SEPTEMBER 7. No URL, no logo. Just a date, like a deadline that belonged to the entire world. I assumed viral marketing. That night on Reddit, I saw a thread on r/AskReddit: What’s your plan for September 7? The comments were nonsense—jokes about stocking beans, moving money, confessing love. A few swore it was the day, which was either the day nothing happened or the day everything did. The thread b...

15 likes 7 comments 7
Read story

Club 49

Submitted to Contest #315

TW: Some swearing and mentions of self-harm. Fingers catching on a loose thread, I smoothed down the sequin top.The voice always started when I was ready to go out. Her voice.“Aren’t you a bit old to go clubbing?”I picked up my eyeliner, hand trembling slightly.“Why do you say that?”My eyes met my own reflection, star dust sprinkling the sides of my face.“Well, look at you!”“What do you mean?”“Hardly love’s young dream!”“Maybe not, but—”“But what?”“But…”“But, but, but…”“Don’t be mean.”“Isn’t it time you faced facts? You’re too old to dress l...

21 likes 18 comments 18
Read story

Mesmer Man

Submitted to Contest #315

“Welcome, sir, welcome to the senior interest night. Is there anything that you are looking for specifically?” “My wife told me that if I didn’t stop bothering her and find something to do, she was going to kill me in my sleep.” “Oh! I hope you find something here then.” Since my retirement, my wife and I have been seeing way too much of each other. We’re getting on each other’s nerves. My friend John and I retired about the same time. He is having a similar situation, but with him, it’s his children. There are also the less spoken-of aspect...

7 likes 6 comments 6
Read story

Sweet Sixteen

Submitted to Contest #315

“Let’s go, Blaine…” Dad calls. I’m sprawled on my bed. I sit up, then run over to my closet.As I go out the front door, I grab my crocheted sash Grand Ariana made for me. I check the contents in it:-a mini notepad and pen,-a few rubber bands to tie my hair,-my used phone,-a flashlight. It’s the bag I bring with me about everywhere. It’s one of the reasons Grand Ariana is the best grandmother in the world.“Blaine!” Dad calls again, a little more sternly. “I’m coming!” I yell back, rushing down the stairs. I pull on my sneakers and Dad smiles,...

1 like 0 comments 0
Read story
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. All for free.