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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.

3230+ 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 2 of 216

On Lions, Orphans, and Other Concepts

Submitted to Contest #294

“And in 1835 the President, perhaps thankfully, agreed to let the lady managers of the older orphanage auction off for the benefit of both asylums the Numidian lions presented to him by the King of Morocco. Each orphanage got about $1,650; who got the lions is not known.” — Constance McLaughlin Green, “Washington, Village and Capital, 1800-1878” Dear President Jackson and the Esteemed Stewards of the orphanages of our great city,  I hate orphans.  No, that sounds wrong. Let me rephrase: I hate the concept of orphans. We are livi...

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Dust Wish

Submitted to Contest #294

One quarter-inch ‘a tobacco-juice-colored dust coats erry single-family home, Ford pickup truck, ‘n brick-faced business in Guymon, Oklahoma through ‘n through. Folks can keep all but the insides ‘a their noses clean, ‘cause no amount ‘a tissue wipes away that sticky, vanilla bean-like paste for good. As a kid, I thought it was funny Mother worked so hard ‘ta keep the dust out of da house, seeing as one of my chores wadn’t sweeping da insides of folks’ caskets, and I guess God agreed with me, ‘cause right at the beginning He say somethin’ li...

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The Last Telegram

Submitted to Contest #294

-London 1943- The war had stripped the world of tenderness, leaving only duty in its place. The Central Post Office had lost its soul to the war. Once a bustling hub of daily chatter and hurried footsteps, it now stood hollow, drained of warmth. The air hung thick with the scent of damp paper and ink, and the walls, yellowed from years of tobacco smoke and fatigue, bore silent witness to countless telegrams that had shattered the hope of unexpectant families. The clerks who staffed the counters moved like ghosts, mere conduits between the wa...

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Dear Joy, Love Beth

Submitted to Contest #294

1963Dear Joy, I loved the letter you sent me, it was terrific! It was hilarious that you have a Munsters lunch box, ME TOO! It is one of my FAVORITES! My favorite animal is a horse. Oh and I read. A LOT. Right now I am reading a book called A Wrinkle in Time. Do you like to read? By the way I like your name! It makes me happy.Write back soon!Love, BethDear Beth,I’m very glad you liked my letter and that we are pen pals! I like to read, too. But you know what I like even more? MUSIC! Music is life. Every day after school I play...

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The Shadow Man

Submitted to Contest #294

                  The Shadow Man I looked up to admire a pale blue San Francisco sky, and quickly inhaled the crisp, cool air—but I might as well have been back in the humid jungles of war-torn Vietnam. A car had just backfired, shattering my fragile nerves. Almost daily, a sound or a scent could cause me to turn to stone—forcing me to recall the ugliness of the battles I’d survived. Over the many years, I’d conditioned myself to freeze, to breath...

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The Long Walk to Freedom - Written By Rahaf Saadeh

Submitted to Contest #294

 The sun descends from the sky, hidden behind the hills and shallow valleys. My mind drifts to a wonderful world of my own where my worries are distant and faint. But my dreams are rudely awakened when I face the reality of my real view… Black rusty bars. Out of the window I only see the concrete of the prison exercise yard.   My legs need to stretch–I need to sit up. It has been a rough day. The little light I see dims, the last colours of the sky disappear into blackness. A single mesh-covered bulb in our cell burns day and ...

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My Dearest Willamina

Submitted to Contest #294

My Dearest Willamina. 20th October, 1856The Braithwaite Farmstead, near Sudbury, Ontario. Dearest Aunt Catherine,  I hope and pray this letter finds you and Uncle Tom in good health. Almost feels like we have been at sea for eternity but finally made it safely to Canada. It was a long journey and at times, I feared I would never feel solid ground under my feet again! But now that we are here, I am starting to see the adventure in it all. Oh, Aunt, you ought to see this place! It is bigger than words can describe, unfathomable, further t...

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My Dearest Gertrude

Submitted to Contest #294

21st September 1900 My Dearest Gertrude, Thank you for your weekly letters, which bring me immense delight.  Pray do not be troubled by my current lack of social engagements.  I assure you my heart and soul are wholly fulfilled through the composing of my songs. They flow effortlessly from me like a river. I have no idea where the ideas spring from, but I am sure that the surreal beauty of nature surrounding me here serves as a principal muse.  I have now completed seventy songs, each growing in richness and composition  ...

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Joan White Cromwell Trelake and the uncertain death.

Submitted to Contest #294

In the year of our Lord, September, 1573My dearest brother Oliver, It is my hope that this letter finds you well. I hear through rumours that there are times you eat foods which cause you grief. Know, my dear brother Oliver, that I could not bare another burden of ill health relating to any of our family. I am writing to ask you to advise me during our Mother’s tumultuous time. My darling husband believes it would be better that you relieve me of further duties and so I am trusting your further instructions until you arrive. M...

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I'll Love You More Tomorrow

Submitted to Contest #294

The following letters are based on actual events in my own life. The letters themselves are made up but are based on true feelings and conversations. Dates are also modified. November 12, 2024 My hubs, it’s been about a month since you deployed. Honestly, it mostly has just sucked. But those first couple of weeks weren’t so bad because I truly thought I may have gotten pregnant right before you left… you know how we’ve wanted that so badly. I figured… what the hell, if I get pregnant right before my husband deploys, at least I’ll know I got ...

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In the Silence of Ashes

Submitted to Contest #294

Jakob’s fingers trembled against the dented tin cup, water sloshing perilously close to the rim. The November air carved his lungs raw, bitter with smoke from chimneys that transformed flesh to ash. His worn shoes navigated the mud between barracks, sidestepping puddles that mirrored a colorless sky.At thirteen, Jakob had perfected invisibility. Three years of silence—not by choice but necessity after witnessing his father’s execution—had rendered him a ghost among the living dead that shuffled through the camp. While other boys his age had ...

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The Last Train

Submitted to Contest #293

The station was a clamor of movement-people rushing past, trains hissing and screeching, announcements crackling overhead. News boys shouting the headlines. "Extra! Extra! The Great Depression-A Cycle of Time That Wont Let Go!" Her feet ached, fine amethyst heels digging into her arches with each step. Tighter, she gripped her sleek lucite clutch, fingers stiff with tension, as noise and bustle pressed in on her. Silk clung to her with the dampness of sweat. The heavy scent of perfume mixed with the sharper, more metalic tang of the station....

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What She Left Behind

Submitted to Contest #293

*Sensitive content regarding death and revenge. California, 1868 Clara Emerson pressed herself against the train window, her eyes glazed and alert from exhaustion. She stretched out her aching legs, revealing her muddy shoes that poked out from underneath the hem of her dress. She retracted her feet back from visibility, gathering and stroking her straw-like, graying hair as she peered out the window. Clara glanced to see if anyone was watching her. Only a handful of people sat behind her, none of which were looking in her direction. No. I’m...

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The Day The Music Died

Submitted to Contest #293

I died 48 years, 249 days, and 3 hours before I was ever born, but the worst part is that I´m still breathing. My mother calls it obsession, although it isn’t obsession when everyone has moved on but you’re stuck there. I’m still on that four-seat Beech craft Bonanza, drinking a passion fruit martini or maybe even something more glamorous. I look around me at these musical geniuses whose words could bring tears to a tough man’s eyes, I look around and they are completely bored., anyone would’ve died to be on that plane and they just sat ther...

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A Change In Interest

Submitted to Contest #293

“Sorrow. Sadness. Grief. Every sad word you can think of. That is how all of those children felt.”I roll my eyes at this absolute nutjob. A bit of a backstory, My parents decided to take me to Prague for our summer vacation this year. Honestly, it’s pretty gorgeous in Prague, but I would rather spend my time exploring the area instead of learning about the World War 2 Kindertransport and being taught by the most insufferable know-it-all. God, if I could just make his squeaky lips come to a close, even for just two seconds.My mum nudges me to...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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