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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

6110+ Inspirational Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. From tales of the miraculous to stories of extraordinary people overcoming incredible odds, you’ll always find something uplifting in our collection of inspirational short stories.

Inspirational Short Stories – Page 1 of 408

Black as Midnight

Submitted to Contest #302

Station 8, ration shipment 041345 has completed its rotation. Truck FCT3 has lost tire #5, requesting replacement. Station 8, watchtower W2 replacement lightbulbs have expired, requesting refill. All is well otherwise. Station 8, To Mister J. Fields, Room 224. Station 8, Brockport bridge shows signs of wear/tear on support beam #1, requesting steel sheets for sauder repair asap. Station 8…Station 8…Station 8… Letter after letter after letter. Some are work requests, for supplies or the like. Others are personal, or news (or lack thereof) fro...

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Emotional Intelligence precedes Understanding

Submitted to Contest #302

TW: Contains themes of abuse and traumaI was once in a predicament. Years ago, I made the difficult decision to leave Austria and move to another continent. This decision was mostly but not entirely based on my abusive family and my insanely mentally, physically and sexually abusive mother. I know dear reader this is a concept which is difficult to grasp. Yet, this is a tiny part of the story of my past. Today I live in today only. I rarely look back. My mother, well the women who gave birth to my half siblings and me was a mentally defectiv...

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Why?

Submitted to Contest #302

For years, I asked: “Why?” Why, was I widowed at the age of 40? Why, was I left and abandoned to raise two children—age twelve and ten—alone? Why, was I entrusted to be the guiding light steering them through the uncharted waters of adolescence and their own silent and heavy ebb and flow of grief. A grief that I knew well because it anchors so deeply within the chest and remains hidden for as long as the mind remains unequipped to handle its messiness. I was 40 years old, a wife, a partner, a mother of two children—ages twelve and ten—an...

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A Troubled Peace

Submitted to Contest #302

The doors remain open 24/7 to the small Catholic church known as St. Dymphna’s. The wooden structure welcomes anyone seeking solace from their troubles. Aptly named, St. Dymphna is the patron saint of those suffering from mental illness, epilepsy, incest abuse, and runaways.The sun shone bright in the Texas country sky as the middle-aged woman climbed the stairs to the white church’s red front door. The color of the door triggered thoughts of pain the woman was running from; not the color of love shared within a family, or with a spouse. ...

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Lost in Translation: A Neurodivergent Journey Through Life

Submitted to Contest #302

I was ready. Probably more ready than I have ever been before taking a final examination at the end of a semester. Taking exams, any exam, tend to be an anxiety-invoking trigger for me. Even when I feel competent in my understanding, there’s always some small, lingering doubts that finds a way in. I am grateful that my professor had granted me the extension. It felt like a gift—one that allowed me a little more time to prepare and catch my breath. As the clock ticked away, I again began feeling both anxious and ready, so I decided to si...

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The Day I Met John Jones

Submitted to Contest #302

Down the crowded sidewalk, I ran, with desperation and commitment on my face and in my soul. The traffic of faces walked opposite to me, staring with curiosity as I passed. They looked so depressed. So discontent in their lives. Like they desired to jump out, but were bound at the feet. Although, I paid little attention to them. I bumped into many, crumpling my pristine suit, which I had worn for the interview that happened to be my destination. It would give me a chance at a very prestigious position, which would earn an exorbitant amount o...

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A Haunted Man

Submitted to Contest #302

A Haunted ManBy Matthew McNabb It was a medium layover in an airport I didn’t know. I was a younger man then. Just starting out in the world of journalism and thought I knew it all of course. I was brash and cocky. Traits I have found far less appealing with maturity. It was just a normal airport bar. One nearly always the same as the others. I had the time and the inclination for a brandy as I worked on a particularly complex assignment for work. I chose what appeared to be quiet part of the bar although at the time of day it was fa...

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A Break from Routine

Submitted to Contest #302

Every day was the same: wake up at 5am to be on the 5:48 bus into the city, spend 5 hours being yelled at by customers for things that weren’t her fault, eat a quick lunch, spend 5 more hours being yelled at by customers, clean the store, then get on the 6:15pm bus and stand the whole way home, eat dinner, watch some TV, and go to bed so she can do it all again the next day.In the five years Meredith had lived in the city, the routine had always been the same. The job changed every 12-18 months but the work was the same, the customers were t...

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Last Night with Albert Cummings

Submitted to Contest #302

Last Night with Albert Cummings. April 24, 2022I wasn’t going to go. My friend and I always joke that we are the early bird crowd, but last night my friend Tammy had tickets to see this amazing artist and his band. I had heard of Albert but was not familiar with his music, despite my brother Colin being a blues musician and loving all that is blues, from BB King to Stevie Ray Vaughan. Albert’s playbill touted all the famous people he has worked and played with, and part of the description read “…with mesmerizing extended guitar jams, Cummi...

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Broken Breath

Submitted to Contest #302

BROKEN BREATHA mother's prayer and a son's second birth Sometimes, we only understand the value of breath when it slips away. I didn’t just lose my breath—I collided with death, wrestled with life, and somewhere in between, I learned what it means to truly breathe. That day, I also learned this: a mother’s prayer can shake even destiny. *** The road we took, my friends and I, began with dreams of becoming police officers. After the exam, we passed the interview. We were hopeful. As I left the house, my mother looked into my eyes and whispere...

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The Pink Pony Girl

Submitted to Contest #302

Carla slouched comfortably in her thread-bare khaki suspenders with the frayed edges cut ages ago because of the threat of outgrowing them. She slurped the last vestiges of her strawberry milkshake happily as she tapped her Doc Marten-clad foot to Pink Pony Club.Her mother entered the room.Carla didn’t notice. Her eyes were closed and the chorus was filling her ears. God, what have you done? You’re a Pink Pony girl and you dance at the club…“Carla, sit up,” her mother swatted her leg.Her eyes popped open and she looked up into her mother’s w...

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Sister's Keeper: A Twisted Faith

Submitted to Contest #302

Natalia Taylor and Nathalia Traylor had been best friends since childhood in Raymond, MS. Born in the same month with nearly identical names—Natalia with a firm simplicity and Nathalia with an added flourish—their lives had long paralleled one another. They grew up along the outskirts of Raymond, where the sweet scent of magnolias mingled with the laughter of local children and the prayers of a small church community nestled between Bolton, Raymond, and Edwards, MS. Their bond was indelible, built amidst long summer nights of whispered dream...

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Mind Echoes

Submitted to Contest #302

The low hum of the suburban party pressed against him, a discordant note in the usually silent symphony of his meticulously ordered life. He clutched the plastic cup, the condensation cool against his clammy palm, and watched the easy camaraderie unfolding around him."Glad you could make it, Finch," Ben said, his smile radiating a warmth that felt almost… manufactured.Finch offered a curt nod, his gaze flicking past Ben to the crowded living room. So much unnecessary social lubrication, he thought, a familiar tightness settling in his chest....

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Watch for a Sign

Submitted to Contest #302

Daffodils raised their yellow trumpets all over the Yorkshire landscape to announce that longer days and better weather were on their way. However, with Mothering Sunday on the horizon, Carolyn was oblivious to their cheerful presence as if the cold and bleak, dark, dismal, gale-drenched winter continued to hold sway. She even still wore her winter coat though not her woolly hat and gloves more from being self-conscious than feeling warm enough as the winds came sharp and bitter sometimes even when the sun was shining.Up early to get her dai...

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The Longest Weekend

Submitted to Contest #301

Your available balance is $343.62.Skye hung up the phone with a sharp click, her heart pounding louder than she’d expected.She yanked open the desk drawer, rummaging past crumpled receipts, a dried-out pen, and a mystery key. Her fingers finally closed around the scratched plastic edges of her old calculator. Shepulled it out as if it was a lifeline.With nervous trembling and extreme force, she pounded the bright yellow oversized buttons, calculating how much she’d need to scrape together in the coming weeks.The weight of reality crashed ove...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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