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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of holiday 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!
DINNER WITH BTS It was on a Monday evening, the sky shone brightly as the sun went down. The breeze was so cool and the neighbourhood was silent. My family of three, my father, mother, and I sat at dinner, it was a pleasant meal consisting of chicken biryani, apple juice, tandoori chicken, lamb kebab, spiced veggie burgers, dal, roti and palak paneer. It was my final meal with my parents before moving to London to study law. My father spoke to m...
A moment to cherish Samina JonesA thirty year old single mother; she was devastated when her husband of three years served her a divorce notice. Sami, as her friends called her, learnt to pick...
Hattie stared at her sewing blankly. It stood out at odds and ends, and heavens it wasn’t the best, and Hattie knew it. She held the red string in her hand, swinging the needle tied to it back and forth. “Hattie, dear, your stitching is, well…” Miss Maple trailed of as Hattie glared at her as she continued to swing the needle back and forth, back and forth. &nb...
As soon as I walk in the door, I'm surrounded by children, all running in circles, giggling, throwing tissue paper at each other in manic delight. "Emily?" I call out, peering around the spacious lounge, which seems utterly devoid of any proper adult supervision.My sister's head pops around the corner of the kitchen, and she smiles at me. "Taylor, hey! I thought you said you weren't goin...
Author’s Note I am not Italian "I am not Italian. Sometimes I wish I were,” Feliz said. We were sitting at a poker table in a back area of the Sideline Bar of the Royal Sands Resort in Cancun. It was 5pm and the bar was empty except for a couple of waiters. Wh...
The clock dings with a soft bird chirp when the hour hand points to twelve. I didn’t know time passed this quickly as I sit with my band members chatting and eating sushi. After successfully finishing the performance in the California Stadium, we were all drenched in sweat. So we crashed Von's house to disappear from the public and have our private time together on the last day of December.
Marian, Dom, Ryder, and I. Marian, Dom, Ryder, and I. Family? I have none. Marain, well her parents abandoned her because they wanted a boy. Ryder, his family disowned him when he became a Christian. Dom, he is an orphan just like me. I guess we are likely friends-then again we aren’t. I am Phoebe. I am 13 years old. Everyone says I am so beautiful. I have tan skin with a dirty blonish with...
Growing up I was unfortunately the only child. I used to hate nothaving any siblings to talk to, hang out with, share crazy stories with or justto have a shoulder to cry on. When they would have siblings’ events at scho...
Sitting on the steps of the university center are three college-aged students. They are cold, with their breath visible in the air. Regardless of the cold, the three friends continue to sit on the steps, smiling and joking around. A fourth friend, who is freezing but refuses to wear a winter coat, approaches the group. “Why are you all sitting out here?” She asks the group. “It’s freezing.” “Because we were waiting for you, Bitch-ass!” the male friend of the group responds with a wide grin. The fourt...
Ndalor has had several fantastic weeks of hunting. He has more than enough meat and stock for him and Padder (his dog). He determines that he could go almost a year without further hunting if he can get all the meat dressed and dried as he normally would. He would hate to lose any to rot, but with the hunting going so well he would also dislike stopping his good run or slowing down some to do the dressing. He scowls, then chuckles to himself … “How odd that good fortune can suddenly become a burden.” As he wonder...
“Giana! Your mother needs her assistant chef!” Zeke knocked on his teenage daughter’s door. It opened, revealing a girl with brown eyes, a dark shade of chestnut brown hair, and a sprinkling of cute freckles around her nose. Her nose was just like her Aunt Illeana’s. “Give me five minutes.” Giana told her father. “I’m on the phone with Yori.”
“Well, well, well. Look who the cat dragged in?” Cynthia, the oldest witch, licked her fingers after she bit into her drumstick. She picked at her tangled gray hair. “What do you know, there’s my wand." “This is quite unexpected.” Samantha, the prettiest of the three witches, let go of her floating fork. She straightened her black skirt and turned to look at the cat. “Smells human and very fleshly,” sniffed Martha, the mature one, who rose up and pulled the front door wide open for the cat.&nbs...
There are so many clubs to join in high school. There’s the Math Club, for the significantly nerdier kids that will probably develop anxiety issues later in life. The Bible Club, for the Christians and boys who want to hook up with virgins. The Theatre Club, for the teenagers who steal cigarettes from their parents and claim to be “misunderstood.” There’s a club for every cliché, for every kid with a need to fit in. Some of them are sponsored by the school, and some of them are made-up by the memb...
Julia woke up on Christmas day feeling better than she had in a long time. She opened her eyes. Her room, normally sad and grey during the winter months, was cheerfully bright.
She needed the bathroom, and wondered if she’d get there in time, or if it would be a matter of getting one of the carers to clean her up afterwards. She still found that embarrassing, even though the carers were used to it, even though it was the norm in here.
Push yourself up, a voice inside her said. She rolled onto her side to see if she could push herself t...
Every night we children get on our knees beside our bunk beds and pray for the same thing: a family. My name is George. I am currently living at another Foster Home, it’s almost Thanksgiving, and this will be my first Thanksgiving at this Home. I’m turning fourteen, going into Eighth Grade, and this is my sixteenth home in Virginia. However, there are thirteen other children in this home and they’re probably all praying for the same thing I am. Thanksgiving is tomorr...
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