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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

150+ Indigenous Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From folklores to modern tales of native people’s struggle to be heard, our indigenous stories have something for everyone.

Indigenous Short Stories – Page 1 of 10

Saving Ancestors' Stories Forever on Voyages of the Destiny's Dreams

Submitted to Contest #310

Even the stories, themselves, were afraid of being forgotten. They needed to be remembered forever, whether by oral telling or by written word. The stories carried the uniqueness that made Mariposa's people distinctive. The wisdom in the stories inspired, uplifted, and guided their lives. The beliefs gave their lives meaning, purpose, and sacred connections. For thousands of years, the stories and wisdom of Mariposa's ancient ancestors flowed through the spirals of time and space, passed along by the spoken word. Then Mariposa's generation p...

18 likes 10 comments 10
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The Heartwood's Song

Submitted to Contest #308

Elara lived on the fringes of the Whisperwood, a forest so ancient its boughs held secrets older than human memory. Her small cottage, nestled at the very edge where cultivated fields met wild, untamed growth, was a testament to her chosen life. She was a botanist, a collector of rare herbs, but more profoundly, a listener. She listened to the rustle of leaves, the gurgle of the stream, and the sigh of the wind through the towering elms—and she heard more than most. For the Whisperwood was not merely a collection of trees; it was a living, b...

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Plenty

Submitted to Contest #308

My skirt was violet. It was procured for me by one of the St. Fire girls from a vintage store near the Cave. The St. Fire girls prefer to travel in packs of four. Each group has a girl who can shoot, a girl who can speak several languages, a girl who climbs trees, and a girl who laughs at jokes that aren’t funny. I was working at the cemetery when one such group approached me. In this group, the girl who laughs at unfunny jokes was named Eddie, and she was the one who held out the skirt for me. “To wear,” she said, “At Won’t It All Be Fine?”...

18 likes 14 comments 14
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Until We Meet Again

Submitted to Contest #306

June 9, 2025 – Journal Entry In one month, it will be four years. Four years since you got sick. Four years since I last heard your voice. Four years since I ignored your calls—too many times to count. Oh, how I wish I could go back! How I wish I would’ve picked up the phone instead of saying, “I’ll call her back later.” Today is one of those days. I need you. I need to hear your voice. I’ve already processed your death. I’ve grieved your loss. But your absence is like being underwater without an air tank. No matter how much time passes, I s...

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Enuk Tried to Come Home

Submitted to Contest #306

Enuk Tried to Come HomeBy Naomi KloudaEnuk stood tall as a book-learned Yupik in our village by the sea. He came back from a school in Oregon in 1969 and set about returning to the boy he’d been when he left. But we all knew he’d grown new thumbs where fingers should be. Nothing came right, from fishing salmon to hunting for isuik, seal meat.“Enuk lost his mojo,” Uncle Tuuk told us kids the night my cousin set off.Mojo was a new word we’d learned from Enuk. It said luck or fortune or grandfather’s guiding spirit. Enuk lost all those things.A...

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The Long Goodbye (and the Longer Hello)

Submitted to Contest #306

Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and family. Kartanya! Remember that name. It means 'firstborn daughter' in my grandmother's tongue. Like most firstborn daughters, I am akin to a storm; I am soft, persistent, life-giving and sometimes, a deluge that reshapes the land. I think it's fitting for the journey I'm finally wrapping up. One hundred years. It was a century measured not just in sunrises but in scars, triumphs, quiet despair, and stubborn, defiant sparks of joy. Today, I don't say goodbye with a whimper but with the echo of a fight w...

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Footsteps of Heroes

Submitted to Contest #306

Kids' faces press against the windows as our old van maneuvers the hairpin turns. Lupines carpet the canyon slopes, and our eyes feast on the spring green. North Idaho’s high-elevation plateaus drop abruptly to precipitous chasms, canyons once gouged by the onslaught of melted glaciers. And deep in their bottoms, the rivers rush with the sound of the ancient monster’s roar.This is Nez Perce country, a country once belonging to a people whose creation story began at the Heart of the Monster, an unexplainable landmark, a mountainous heap of ea...

23 likes 16 comments 16
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The Raven’s Quest

Submitted to Contest #305

It took a few seconds to realize I was utterly and completely lost. I’d gone off the beaten path and was now far from it. I tried finding my way back, but it seemed like I was just turning in circles. The forest was enormous and my screams did no good. I trudged along until I couldn’t go any further, then collapsed under a tree. I’d already been warned not to go off the path; there are black bears and timber wolves in the area.I woke up when someone touched me, and jumped out of my skin at the old, dark, wrinkled and weathered face that star...

10 likes 1 comment 1
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Where the Spirit Horses Drink

Submitted to Contest #305

Where The Spirit Horses Drink By Johanna Lor Rain Parry ---- this story is based on true events, and real experiences. It includes historical trauma from indigenous genocide. She could hear them drumming for those praying in the lodge...the heart-beat rhythm reminding her of the thousands of tears that drip slowly into the red earth from the eyes of those who have seen too much. A trail of prayers trickled upward from the fire in front of the sweat lodge. The swirling smoke spiraled, threadlike towards the sky. Life had always been hard in ...

14 likes 1 comment 1
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Cruel Intent

Submitted to Contest #303

“This is a monster who killed this poor girl.” I looked over at Camron. He was the local police presence. He was young and his eyes were full of hope. He just did not understand how his job would change his life over his career. It was so humid you could almost see the steam in the air. The skies were a brilliant blue and there was a slight breeze coming from the east. The beaches had been sugary and the people pleasant but now reality hit me in the face. It was not real. It was an imaginary paradise. How could I have been fooled so easily? ...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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Third Eye Roll

Submitted to Contest #301

THIRD EYE ROLL The stolen naloxone vials burned against Taala's thigh as she crouched behind Rez Clinic's dumpster. The smell of roasted piñon nuts from Old Man Yazzie's stand mixed with antiseptic. Six vials left—three for Kelsey, three for the next kid who'd OD behind the chapter house.A memory flashed: Taala at eight, grinding blue corn with Mom while the BIA notice flapped on their trailer. "Tsé nináháádzá," Mom muttered, shoving ch'íłchin into her hand. "Take the sour with the sweet.""Miss Brown." BIA Agent Wilcox's fake turquoise bolo...

11 likes 0 comments 0
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1520: They Arrived

Submitted to Contest #300

Our canoe sliced steadily through the warm, ocean waters; Eztli and I had long ago settled our paddle strokes in sync. Our muscles initially burned from the strain, but we were Mayan warriors built for this. Hugging the coast, we welcomed the jungle grackles with their harsh, loud chaa, the doves' coo, and the chachalaca's raucous calls as they accompanied us toward our river and home village. I wiped my black hair back from my face with a shoulder rise. The ocean breeze was a welcome respite from the days of humidity and heat we endured as ...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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My New Island Home

Submitted to Contest #300

From my window seat, I saw a double rainbow over Oahu. I was sitting on the right side of the Hawaiian Airlines plane and was able to see several islands and the Honolulu Airport (HNL) before the Boeing 747 turned on final approach. I saw the Koolau Mountains, Honolulu Airport, Pearl Harbor, Kapolei Airport and Waianae beach before the plane made a hard right headed for HNL. I saw the sparkling blue ocean below, a horizon with white clouds splitting the blue sky and darker blue water, and more sea below before the plane flew over the shore o...

5 likes 1 comment 1
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The unwanted Acceptance

Submitted to Contest #298

West Africa, Liberia, 1992: shooting, killing, shouting, famine, and destruction. Can a child survive in a place like this, where most young boys are given a gun to shoot their friends, family, and innocent citizens? It’s a place where children are no longer looked upon as children but as potential killers, where parents and families have to leave each other behind to die or stay together and watch each other get killed before their eyes. This is not a place to give birth now, Momma. Not now. Not in the condition of this country. But Momma h...

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His name was Death

Submitted to Contest #296

In a society built on the ideals of man, who can truly say what is morally good, and what makes you a villain?In our own minds, we are never truly evil; only operating in a way that seems correct to us, with what few standards are set for humanity.In a world of storybook heroes and villains, who truly is to blame? The man aligned to his own sense of morality, or those who align themselves with the moralities of those in power?Those pawns of power seem to detest people like me; rebellious people love me.But what does that make me? A villain? ...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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