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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.

3280+ 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 87 of 219

Orphan Train

Submitted to Contest #168

Two little eyes and a frown. I draw these onto the fogged-up window as the train chugs into the tunnel. My four-year-old sister, Kate, is asleep on my leg, drooling all over my only clean dress. I want to wake her up. I want to be mad at her for soiling the last thing Mama gave me—the last thing she ever will. But I don’t have the strength. Papa said everything will be alright now. We’d be safe now. This train will take us somewhere we can stay healthy and happy until we can be a family again.  But we can never be a whole family aga...

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Mortuary Station

Submitted to Contest #168

It’s All Hallows’ Eve, and the night is whispering secrets. Three friends gather as they jump over the chained ironed gates leading to the old Mortuary Railway Station.    “Didn’t I tell you this would be the perfect spot?” insists Mason with a wild grin. His athletic body has easily landed him on his feet from off the tall, sharp gates. He turns his head to the sound of a thud and a yelp.   “I don’t know guys,” whimpers Howard as he dusts himself off and looks around. “I- I don’t think we should be here.” His slender fram...

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SOUTHBOUND

Winner of Contest #168 🏆

SOUTHBOUNDby David M. SweetDoralea looked out the window of the southbound train. Mid-October leaves dappled the Kentucky hillsides in fiery oranges and burning reds, dull yellows and rusty browns with a few evergreens peaking through the canopies. Colors were made even more vivid by the morning sun and clear, blue sky. Flaxen sedge grass along with green tangles of weeds, brambles, and even a few autumn flowers blurred together as she shifted her gaze downward toward the edges of fields and fence rows speeding by next to the railroad bed. T...

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Ash and Silence

Submitted to Contest #168

The silence bothered me. The gloom gathered more thickly, and her breathing became more labored. If I told her to take the rag from her nose and mouth, she would bring ash into her lungs with each breath. Although we held hands, the sweat of our palms made the grip slippery with mud. The powdered rock continued to fall, and though it was mid-day, all signs indicated it would get worse.“Pliny,“ she said huskily, “You must go on without me. Your survival is all that matters. I promised your father.”Beneath her coating of ash, I knew that her s...

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First They Took the Boys, Then They Took the Men

Submitted to Contest #168

The morning was cool, there being a light breeze in the air. However, the sun just coming up over the tree line brought a warmth that found my hands and face. I had to squint every time the sun fell from behind the white clouds, and it had already become an annoyance. A few flies buzzed past my face, and so I tried to blow them away, but they just rebounded back to me and continued to fly around whatever they thought was so interesting. Perhaps I still had some jam on my face from breakfast, or saliva shining on my lips, but whatever it was,...

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To Become A Brakeman

Submitted to Contest #168

Jaybird reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch of Bugler tobacco. He then took out a folded section of yellowed newspaper, tore it into a quarter sheet, plucked out the last of the pouch's contents, gently rolled the tobacco in yesterday's farm foreclosure notices, and rolled a crude cigarette, licking the flap to make it all stick together. A man's land wasn't worth much more than that paper puffed into a hobo's lungs those days. The stationmaster already knew Jaybird would be bumming a dry match for his cigarette, so before Jaybird...

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GOODBYE MY LOVE

Submitted to Contest #168

UNION TRAIN STATION 1942 Union train station is always packed especially now. I see men in uniform, there women by their side saying goodbye. Today it's my turn to say goodbye to my guy, my love Tommy. I've been at Union train station all morning watching many couples say goodbye not knowing if they will ever see their love again. I saw tears, laughter and hugs, then I saw loneliness. Tommy and I have been best friends since we were kids. I know it's weird for a girl to have a boy as a best friend, for me it wasn't. I was and still am ha...

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Seven Years

Submitted to Contest #168

Emmanuel remembered the first time she had ridden the train. Her nose pressed right up to the glass and a small smudge of fog would expand and contract with each excited breath. She held up Monsieur Toutou, her teddy bear, so that he too could see the rolling green hills and farmlands of the French countryside. Look for sheep Monsieur Toutou! But don’t count them unless you want to fall asleep! Emmanuel’s mother sat next to her wearing her best outfit, a dark blue dress covered in a pattern of white polka-dots with a high waist belt and a da...

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The Hell Coach

Submitted to Contest #168

I knew the woman was bad news the second she entered the stagecoach. Though, more accurately, I should say I sensed she was bad, the knowing would come later. The horses certainly sensed it and did their best to flee her and the perceived evil that enshrouded her. The driver and his shotgun were able to hold them long enough for her to give them a look which calmed their demeanor faster than a shot of angel dust from old doc Metzger.            After shrugging their shoulders at the hors...

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Destined Destination

Submitted to Contest #168

[death] “Lev, you know we love your writing,” Mikhail Katkov said to the incensed writer. “But the last installment of your novel is a catastrophe.” Lev sat with folded arms across his chest. If he spoke, he knew that all hell would shake the corridors of the Herald. “My wife believes it is a great novel,” Lev finally said through clenched teeth. “Naturally your wife would say that … she’s your wife. Lev, I’m giving you my honest gut opinion – you will be laughed out of the country or stoned if we publish this.” The publisher ...

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Affairs in Order

Submitted to Contest #168

Colin Tolbert was a man who kept his affairs in order.  It was a lesson his father taught him as a boy.   Constantly reminded of his father’s golden rule when he shadowed his father in the fields, the apple orchard and the barn.  Amos, his father, told him to keep his affairs in order, because you never know when the good Lord will knock on your door.  Be ready for that hour, because you never know when He will come for you.  His father’s hour came after a long illness. In his final chapter, there were loose ends tha...

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Charing Cross, 1942

Submitted to Contest #168

CHARING CROSS, 1942. If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be spending my twenty-seventh birthday alone, in the buffet bar at Charing Cross, and rather enjoying it, I’d have never believed them. But a lot has happened in the last year or so and frankly there’s nowhere I’d rather be. Of course I could have gone out with Jimmy Fenton from Accounts, who inquired ever so politely if I’d finally accept his offer of a drink this evening to mark the occasion, but quite honestly I’d rather not inhale his cigar smoke, and I’m certainly no...

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Never again

Submitted to Contest #168

Note to the judges: It is set in WWII, so it contains nazisme but in harmful daylight. It was one of those sunny September days when summer waved its last goodbyes. The large black train locomotives huffed and puffed, billowing out white steam simultaneously. The large clacking sounds indicated the wagons being locked into each other. On the platforms were long lines of suitcases ready to be processed. Soldiers in their pristine uniforms were talking to each other in high-spirited moods. Some smoked while others showed pictures of the...

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Defiance Station

Submitted to Contest #168

Content warning: this was written 24 hours before the drone attacks in Ukraine.Tomb-like darkness embraced the city streets. Flashes of outgoing anti-missile fire illuminated the broken skyline. The car raced, dodging the many craters and molten debris."God, please, just get us there safely!" Daniel Devaile held his wife Maria's head in his lap; hunched over her, he peered over the edge of the window, his finger exploring a bullet hole in the door. "American? Don't worry; this is my twelfth trip tonight, and nobody has died ye...

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The Boy and the Pocahontas

Submitted to Contest #168

Timmy woke up from a restless sleep. He was taking the Capitol Limited to stay with his mother in Washington D.C. for the summer, and this was a journey he had never experienced, but there was something more to it than he ever thought. Timmy couldn't get a wink of sleep, so he rubbed his eyes, and made his way to a car called the Sightseer's Lounge. It was early in the morning, and the sun poured its light into the lounge car windows. Timmy stared out the window in awe of the vibrant sunrise and there sitting in the opposite seat was an old...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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