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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of gay short stories? Every week thousands of writers submit stories to our writing contest.
Coming of Age
People of Color
Teens & Young Adult
We'll send you 5 prompts each week. Respond with your short story and you could win $250!
The fire in the hearth crackled. Awkward introductions had been made. At the head of the table, Sir Danielle Longbow was enjoying the dizzying strength of the beer. Her brown eyes met her mother’s and the mirth on Alexandra’s face fell away.
“How did you meet?” Rose Fletcher asked, pointing from Danielle to Lupita Smith.
“We killed some monsters in the prison. You must have heard the...
I had just entered that in-between phase of sleep and wakefulness when my cell phone rang. Normally I shut it off before going to bed because of this very reason but I fell asleep watching a video. Damn near gave me a heart attack because the phone was close to my ear and the ringtone is a voice telling me to answer it. The fact that my best friend is the only one who has that ringtone saved my phone from getting flung across the room. Fully awake, I answered it and tapped on the speaker.“What’s wrong Luka?” ...
"You'll never know unless you try." This coming from your friend Jorge, one of the lucky ones. Ever since he did it, you've quietly observed his metamorphosis from the sidelines: the bright fingernail polish, the rainbow pins decorating his backpack, the braces-bound smile that never takes a day off. He's emerged from his cocoon but forgot to take you with him. "Just look at me."
You yearn to say those wo...
Eggs wasn't his name; I made that up after we had gone our separate ways, never to see each other again. From this distance - and time here is the geography; this story is 30 years old - some details are scant; pieces are missing, and I appear as a stranger even to myself. I remember the boy on the beach, the girl in the pink skirt and the sugar. Those parts of the story are clear.We had caught the same flight from London to Bangkok. For Eggs, Thailand...
“Attention customers, the store will be closing in 5 minutes, please proceed to the nearest register.”
Felix dropped his head to the shelf in front of him, tasting salt on his lips as a stray tear escaped. He opened his eyes and stared helplessly at the empty shelf in front of him where the orange chocolate aero bars should have been. Taking a deep breath he pulled his head off the shelf, letting it sway on his un...
Habits were hard to break. Waking up at the same time every day, always ordering the same coffee, taking the same route to and from work. Ian was guilty of all of these, and others. He was fortunate enough–or unfortunate?--that his walk home from work took him along main street. It was nice looking in all the shop windows, seeing how everything changed as the seasons went by and waving to all the familiar employees as he...
NOTE: sensitive content regarding death and accidents Sweeternity By Sharon D. Hancock Tragedy and a bus struck outside Sweeternity Sweet Shop; fatally mangling … Cara’s stress level soared as she tried to tune out the hor...
CONTENT WARNING; STRONG LANGUAGE, SEX SCENES
“11 minutes sir, until impact, that’s what CNN says.”
Sir cowers on all fours, placing his desk between him and the nuclear warhead that is now minutes away from turning our school into a barbecue pit. He pokes his phone’s darkened screen hard with his index finger, tap, tap, tap. He’s trying to call his wife or kids or something; I ...
An embrace from my siblings was rare so that’s why when Roger hugged me I couldn’t help but let my tears flow. He was always the one to console us after my brothers and I would get beaten by our father. He didn’t endure nearly as much of the abuse Brian, John, and I got. Roger was the favorite. Never said aloud, but we all knew the unspoken truth. He was the protector of us all. So it surprised me when years later after ...
“Thank you all for meeting me here,” Orville began, unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves. “I know tensions are a little high, but there’s no reason we can’t all be civil for a few minutes.” He swallowed, examining the faces of the other passengers gathered around him. Mrs. Garnett was on the overstuffed sofa, a handkerchief clutched in her lap. Next to her sat Ms. Maeve, cigarette in hand. Dr. Collier was in the armchair...
Quincy’s volcano will win. Because his is made with tempera paint powder and tonic water; the new kid Eric’s just has regular water and food coloring. Quincy’s volcano will be bubblier and redder and it’ll win.He’s sure of that as he watches the sixth grade science fair judges enter the gym with their arms full of ribbons and certificates.And they walk to Eric’s poster board and pass him the gold medal. His parents pat him on the back and smile for the camera.Then the judges make their...
For once, the Moon outshined the Sun, and it made the Sun furious. Twinkling instruments echoed through the infinite ballroom. The Moon twirled amongst the Stars, switching partners without missing a beat. The Sun stood in the center, yet all kept their distance from him. He beamed at a Star as they shot past him, causing them to stop in their tracks in awe.
Having lured in his target, the warm look on hi...
Note: This story contains mentions of physical violence and derogatory language.
Squeezing both bags, he stared at the coffee maker. Wood County was always out of everything. Grounds. Creamer. Actual sugar. Viscous brown water stained his fingers and dripped into the rippling tea in the styrofoam cup. When the sopping bags had given their all, he tossed them into the trash can under the sin...
“I hate tea” Jason called out from the couch. “You’re wasting your time making it, Kevin because I’m not drinking it.”I sighed while pouring hot water into a Garfield mug. “For a sick person, you sure are loud babe. Keep it up and I’ll spike it with NyQuil.”“Spike it with gin then I’ll drink it.”Going to the pantry I retrieved a tin of butter cookies and a bottle of honey. “I promise, this is the only time you have to drink it. I just want to see if it works.”A coughi...
The pain tore through me, the knife cutting through the layers of flesh, blood spilling out. For an instant, I felt nothing, and then, I felt a soreness in my chest, a soreness that seemed empty, void of all feeling and emotion, unaware of its own existence. Chills began to dominate me; the cold bit at me. The wind blew right through me, as if I did not exist. Shivering, I looked up into the face of my attacker.
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