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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of lesbian 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!
The email appeared in my inbox late one night. It was well past midnight and I was nowhere near sleep, just mindlessly scrolling on the internet. That was pretty typical for me these days. Sometimes I had booze to lull me to sleep, but it was coming up on the end of the month and my stash was long gone. I had honestly been too lazy to go back out to the grocery store, not even for food. I’d spent the past few wee...
It was pouring by the time we left the movies. The sky was that shade of dark and heavy, coarse green mixed with a whole lot of brown and black, how it gets after endless days of stifling heat. The type of rain one wants to welcome, since the previous afternoons have been spent running from air condition to air condition, trying to alleviate the race of sweat being performed from one's temples to one's cheek and awkwardl...
The girl sang in the Church choir. Her voice lulled and soothed everyone present. The Church was filled with a dope of sweet sadness and longing. The audience seems to have been transported from the 21st century to many years or even centuries ago. It seemed that in a little while the doors would swing open to admit the distinguished ladies in fur coats and their gentlemen. But as the minutes passed, as if in a haze, vag...
My wife takes a big, deep breath and smiles. 'Can you smell that?'We are sitting on little plastic chairs at a little plastic table in an open-air hawker centre, a great al fresco food court, at Gurney Drive in Penang, Malaysia. The sun has set. The hawkers are setting up, unfolding the limbs of their metal carts. The sound of music and chatter in a smattering of languages, laughter mixed with knives chopping, water pouring, plastic plates being stacked. The preparation of every kind of food you could e...
The ding-ding-ding of the car’s door chime turned to a bassline in my head. Rhythmic, mathematically built for maximum danceability. Enough to make my ears pulse with each new addition to the dozens of dings before. Like a concert from the parking lot, reverb echoing in straining ears and hearts begging to thump to the cadence if they could simply get close enough to catch the beat.
Dawn Walker was an interesting woman. How I had come to this conclusion, I did not know. Between her refusal to watch anything on a screen that is more than four inches deep and the weekends she spends throwing neon-glitter-alien parties, I had plenty to choose from.
This was not enough to stop me from loving her, however, no matter how many crazy 2020s themed parties I got dragged into participating in...
“You know, when this whole thing started, and I mean way back, at the very beginning, when most of it was just rumors and small little accidents blown out of proportion, I Googled the actual definition of an apocalypse,” Penny tucked her hair behind her ear, her dark roots now as long as the bleached section, “And it’s actually ‘an event involving destruction or damage on an awesome or catastrophic scale.’”
After the apocalypse, nothing was the same. Aliens had discovered Earth, and they tried to destroy us, but we fought back hard enough to defeat them. Sadly, some lives were lost, but our planet won in the end. After this apocalypse, Earth would never be the same again.My best friend, Liv, is the strongest person I know. She fought as hard as she could during the apocalypse, saving so many lives. She is also extremely beautiful. God, she’s gorgeous. I woke up this morning on Liv’s couch. I slept at ...
"What's going on?" I scream, sprinting across the field towards my best friend. Shle's running too. I think the world is ending.
I'm being chased by some kind of monster. They were peope, and I know, because I watched them change. They have pale green skin, and sharp nails. Their teeth grew into fangs, and now they have bird feet.
"Dezi!" Marci shouts.
She's been my best friend since we were in kin...
It was the end of the Brown Package season when the women with the wind on their tongues arrived at the house in the mountains. They grasped hands in an eternity sort of way, like past disagreements dissolving into lemons on ice. Their songs were of fairies with broken wings and white lace.
The mailman, being jealous and lonely, lingered every afternoon by their peachy mailbox. His scent wafted through the hous...
My name is Catrine. I go by Cat.
Today is Halloween. My favorite holiday. Me and my friends do huge scare games every year. We have teams, and see who can last the longest. This year, I'm going to win.
I'm in ninth grade. I started school late, and was held back in seventh grade, so I can drive. I live with my dad, but he doesn't care what I do. I stay at my friends houses all the time. All of them are...
Author’s note- All songs here were written by yours truly! Hope you enjoy! My personal favorite song that I have ever written is Spin Like The Lilies which is what inspired this story’s two parts.
I, Merielle Olympe, am a troublemaker.
I have gotten in detention three hundred and seventeen times in my whole school career, have been evicted out of classrooms at least five times a year, and have bro...
Sharon was cleaning up the girl’s locker room after the basketball game when she heard noises coming from the equipment room. She slipped around quietly until she could see what it was that was making the noise. What she saw, shocked her. She saw Veronica Tipton, the richest girl in school. She was standing in the trash cart in a large heavy duty black trash bag. Sharon watched as Veronica dumped a half full garbage can ...
You know how fairy tales work? The princess usually meets the prince at a ball. They fall in love. But then something happens and then the prince has to rescue the princess. He rescues her and then they ride off into the sunset on a horse that has no other role. That’s how they work. There’s never been any change to it.I, for one, always hated that story. There were just so many problems with it. Here, have my full list of issues, that grows by the day-1. You can meet *insert love interest* at ANY OTHER PLACE apart from a ba...
The icy pole packaging said that it was blueberry. It was tasteless though, and melting, spreading a sticky layer of sugar and ice over my skin.
The beach for me, was a place where I always got sunburnt, despite smearing SPF 100 sunscreen all over my freckled skin, where I was marred by tan lines for months.
It was a place I imagined myself going to when I realised the futility of self-actualisation. A ...
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