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

3270+ Historical fiction Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Whether you’re looking to step back into ancient civilizations, the 19th-century, or anywhere in between, our collection of historical fiction stories is here to keep you riveted.

Historical fiction Short Stories – Page 100 of 219

1822, 1851, 1885

Submitted to Contest #145

Sensitive content: mild reference to violence, trauma.Good stone streets, good stone buildings. Not far off from the proper French cities home across the ocean. The wind whistled down the Saint Lawrence, carrying the sickly-sweet city scent along with it. The late summer sun shone bright, providing a comfortable afternoon heat. Shouts and clamor from the port echoed behind Denis, the ship that carried him from his old life now docked and still.He took in the sights, legs adjusting to solid ground again. He prayed as he walked, giving thanks ...

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The Dress

Submitted to Contest #145

Lulu loved watching her mother sew. It was a delicate art, weaving needle and thread to join two parts of cloth together and creating intricate embroideries. Lulu herself tried to imitate what she saw – under her mother’s guidance – only twice before she’d had enough of pricking herself with the fine needle. Instead, she was perfectly content sitting on the arm of the old sofa, peering over her mother’s shoulder as she worked in the rocking chair. She would draw the focused look her mother’s face had as she worked, and her nimble hands. She ...

12 likes 3 comments 3
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The Trials of Ralph of Hairstow-on-Stretford

Submitted to Contest #145

It’s a slap what wakes me, right across my face. Is that Gemma, I wonder? Before my eyes can open I loose a mighty burp and trumpet a righteous wind. “Good lord!” a man yells. “By all that’s holy!” says another. “That is foul indeed!” I try to open my eyes. My lids are thick, heavy, covered with honey or something. When I crack them it’s painful bright out and I wince. I could have sworn it was night just a moment ago, but everything’s blurry. Vision, memory, all of it. Like that time Gemma said she was expecting yet another mouth to feed. I...

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Masked Prison

Submitted to Contest #145

The magician led Evie to a room she had never been to before. There were a lot of rooms she had not been to within that vast house that seemed to contain entire countries behind its locked doors. Her midnight blue dress, a gift from the magician, shuffled at her feet as she attempted to keep up with his long strides. Each of her steps caused the shimmer of her dress to catch on the candlelight; sparkles danced on the walls around them as they glided down the halls. They came to a door with an ornate handle. It looked old and untouched f...

18 likes 14 comments 14
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The Uniform

Submitted to Contest #145

In life we shared a name, he was senior and I was junior, but the commonality ended there. As a born storyteller, he would freely incorporate fiction, so you were never quite sure where the truth began and the story was sprinkled in. There were also some things he guarded with his silence.  When he passed away at the age of forty-seven, he took many of those guarded secrets with him. One of his biggest mysteries was his uniform which I found in a metal closet in the basement after he passed away.  From the documents I sorted, I f...

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Peter Leaning Forward

Submitted to Contest #145

Peter Leaning Forward Part I Peter Petrovich leans forward, arms straight out from elbows pulled tightly into his ribs, forearms leading to small wrists, and blood red hands that grip pink rubber grips, while his pasty white legs pump, and his head bobs with every rise and fall of his knees over the pedals. The chain groans along its inexorable path over the teeth of the sprocket and gears as Peter cranks himself and his bicycle up the Mesabi Trail like a breakaway racer on the Tour de France. He wears an electric blue racing shirt adver...

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The Christening Gown

Submitted to Contest #145

Warning: this story contains implied reference to sexual abuse. The Christening gown. 1889 Marguerite stared at the box. Should she open it? Doing so would only lead to more heartache. Yet she knew she had to do so. She pulled at the ribbons which had been so lovingly tied in a bow by her mother the last time it was closed. She eased the lid off with trembling fingers. There it was. Not as white as it had been when her grandfather had worn it, not as soft as it had been when her father had been clothed in it, but just as beautiful as ...

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Life in Black and White

Submitted to Contest #144

Life in Black and White Behind the lens “Just scooch in a little closer — there you go! Thank you. Now, hold the pose… just a few seconds… look right here and smile!…” Click! Whrrr… “Beautiful!” Clint was satisfied. He had a feeling this one would turn out well — a photograph that told a story without words. A story of the love of a father for his children. It was Clint’s dream to open his own photography studio someday. Until then, it was a hobby. His fascination with photography had begun when he was young, maybe the age of the boy...

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The Dry-Plate Pioneers

Submitted to Contest #144

It was four o’clock in the morning when the hideous chorus erupted next to my head. My Westclox shrieked at me like a merciless automaton from hell sent to torment our wretched cadavers. I heard Carol’s muffled adenoidal protest and felt her playful elbow shove my ribs. ‘It’s your turn to get up, Ted,’ she said, pulling the blankets over her head to block out the awful din. I struggled to part my eyelids in the murk and extended my numb fingers towards the infernal clock. Fumbling in vain to stop the persistent racket, I sent it tumblin...

35 likes 12 comments 12
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Arabian Convoy

Submitted to Contest #144

While rambling through some storage boxes in the basement one day, I came across a roll of film. The film was among past photos and other odds and ends, and I recognized that most of the stuff was from back in the 1990s. “I wonder what could be on this,” I asked myself aloud, though there was no one around. I rolled the film around in my hand. The yellow sticker on the backside of the film case had been worn down to make it unreadable. I had a sudden sense of profound curiosity to find out what was in that roll of film. How to get this...

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A Journey to the Past

Submitted to Contest #144

I've always wonder what the past was like. How the people lived? What they ate? What clothes they wore? What books they read? The past is fascinating. The past has a way of capturing your imagination. My favorite time period is the 1920's, the golden age of Hollywood. The movie starts of the past were glamorous, from the dresses they wore to the makeup they used. 1910-1960 is when the golden age of Hollywood took place. The 1920's was a fascinating time. The decade when sound was first introduce to movies, then we have the 1930's when ...

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You May

Submitted to Contest #144

Cornwall, 1901 Ross squinted into the sun as he slowed his horse to a trot. After four gloomy days of rain, he was glad to trade the dark walls of his family’s home for the warm salt air of the cliffs. This pathway left the newly returned and generous sun at his back and though it’s rays stung his eyes as it sparkled on the calm waves down below, it felt pleasant along his sleeves and shoulders. He closed his eyes for a moment and relished the warmth. It was then his horse moved under him with a thunderous jolt. Hooves rattled against the ...

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The Dear Departed

Submitted to Contest #144

My grandmother is very old. She was born on 1 April, 1908, and today is her ninetieth birthday. She is a cheerful happy lady of the old school who adores her family. She likes nice clothes and an occasional illicit cigarette. She is a great cook and raconteur who loves to tell funny stories and has the gift of making you feel as though you are the most important person in the world. But there are some things she will never speak about.There is a polished mahogany box that grandmother keeps on her bedside table. It looks like a jewellery...

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Star of the Stage and Silver Screen

Submitted to Contest #144

It rolled out from under a steamer covered in dust and other detritus found in the attic.   My father Vernon Hattford had passed away a week ago in hospice, leaving me as executor of his estate.  He had lived in this house since getting his Veteran Administration loan to buy it after the war in 1946.  I grew up, learned to drive, got my first kiss and a whole bunch of other memories in this neighborhood before leaving for college.  It shames me to admit, I have never looked back until my dad got cancer.  I helped set...

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Planting a Friendship

Submitted to Contest #143

After working all night in the mansion’s nursing home Kitty was too tired to take a bath and too wound up to sleep. From the kitchen she grabbed a cup of coffee and went to the back porch that overlooked downtown Des Moines.  She kicked off her nursing shoes and plopped on a wicker chair. Her soiled nursing uniform, once starched and ironed to perfection was now wrinkled and damp from perspiration.   As she unhooked her nylons from her garter belt she wondered how much longer she could work without hiring a full...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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