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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of lgbtq+ 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!
Ah yes, 5:00pm on Friday, that magic hour where I am set loose from the metaphorical cage that is my office at the NYC DOE and set free to roam once more. The last 30 minutes of my day always seem to drag. I have picked up the bad habit of boredom scrolling Instagram. My Instagram discovery today was that my ex girlfriend Maddie had gone and gotten engaged. She was now engaged to the ...
Chi-ching! Another plant sold. This one is an Orchid that I have named Steve. I can't help it! I need to have something to do for the three hours I'm here every day! So… I name the plants. Stupid, I know, but I get bored easily. I look up from the homework I resumed and notice the Woman who bought Steve staring at me expectantly. She is probably in her 70s, with gray hair, thin lips, and wrinkles. "Have a great day," I say in a not-so-cheery tone. She stands there and glares at me. I don't know what she wants until I loo...
It was time to do it. To move on. A punch on my stomach, a metallic taste in my mouth, the smell of something disgusting. As repulsive as the inside call. What was it? Just blurry feelings that make one enter an anxious spiral. “Go away, gooooo awaaaay!” I thought. But the feeling started pushing even more. “OK, done, you win. I will have to live with myself for at least 40 more years, then give me a break.”
My wife loved plants.
Love, even such a powerful word, cannot accurately describe how intensely she felt about them. The leaves, the petals, the roots … were all intertwined within her. She could never walk past without running her fingers across them, without whispering a word of affection. Sometimes I felt as if she loved them more than me, more than herself.
Our tiny house was full of them, han...
“TOILETS!” whaled Geraldine at her startled grand daughter.
“What, Nana?” asked Michelle truly perplexed by this sudden outburst just as they were getting somewhere.
“Toilets!” Geraldine repeated at a lower volume. Michelle was shaking her head trying to join the dots but sadly the context still too hazy.
“… you’re gonna need to give me more detail as I’m not following.”
“Oh you know… to...
I stared out of my bedroom window, still sitting on my bed in the clothes from the previous day that I had fallen asleep in. It was supposed to rain today as it had for most of April but instead, as I gazed through the glass with my chin resting in my palm, I saw the sun peaking through fluffy white clouds pressed up against a blue sky. Despite the unusually pleasant day outside my body felt heavy and unable to move....
You’ve likely heard a similar story. There’s a place that you always seem to find comfort and relaxation. Something that could be considered a sanctuary or a safe haven. A place that helps through difficult times. Sorry, my mind likes to wander. “The rule of three.” Have you heard of it? Not sure what it means but it has something to do with these specific connections throughout the day. For me it was a library, the lib...
I love books. I also love libraries. The first thing I do when I travel somewhere is find a local library and a local book shop. Libraries serve as great spots to brave a rain shower and books are great companions on a quiet night in, or train ride. They also make wonderful gifts and I buy them as souvenirs from my travels. I like local libraries. You can learn a lot about a community by just perusing the library. What types of events is the library hosting? What classes if any does the library host? What pos...
You frown at the syrupy stickiness of the menu. Hours of trying to unravel the mystery behind serpentine streets led to dead ends, graffiti covered walls, and a diner with initials etched into the vinyl booths. The glass of water given to us by an equally exhausted server sloshes onto the table, and you use your sleeve to wipe the plastic. Mine has a lipstick stain on it. I ignore it.
We’ve spent hours not speaki...
My local book club is the most fun I have. We read a book every month, then get together to discuss it. Well, we sort of discuss it amongst all the food and wine provided by whoever is hosting.
Being part of the book club has opened my eyes to a lot of books and genres I never would have read otherwise. And made me realize yes, I can be a detective, sort of.
But I'm getting ahead of mysel...
Sir Danielle Longbow woke tired, sweaty, and dehydrated. Her smile stretched from ear to ear as she looked at Lupita Smith asleep next to her. Months and an ocean apart had been tortuous. To make up for it they had kissed until they were screaming with ecstasy. Neither had stopped until their bodies betrayed them with unconsciousness.
Kissing the soft brown skin of Lupita’s chest Danielle waited for he...
Gisella di Vallepietra sat, as gracefully as she could, on the embroidered padding of the stool before her instrument. She brushed off her silky skirts, and threw (yet another) anxious glance around the two dozen guests now ambling to their seats in her father’s gilded sitting room. Signore di Vallepietra rarely threw such ornate dinner parties – he could barely afford their ornate Venetian villa as it was – but Gisella ...
I’ve never found joy getting all dressed up, drinking alcohol, and flooding the school gym to dance the night away. I would rather stay in bed all day with a good book than be surrounded by one hundred seniors dry humping each other. But this isn’t any other dance, this is my first date since Stephan. It had been over a year since things ended between us and I’m ready to get back into the dating world.
"Time is the soul of this world." -Pythagoras-He thinks he might have been human, once.He might have had a name, a life, a mortal body. He might have lived for a while, as something else. He’s been here for too long- long enough to know how dark is the dark above the atmosphere, and how long the newborn stars wil...
I open my eyes with a throbbing headache, sticky fingers, and vague images of a lifeless corpse following me from a nightmare I’ve just woken up from. There’s red all over my pillow, and as I sit up I see that it’s on my hands. The sheets roll down my torso and reveal that my shirt is covered, too. I want to massage my temples to quell the awful aching, but stay frozen in disgust looking around at what can only be blood. It’s everywhere. Is it my period? Do I need to drive myself to the hospital? I start putting the pieces together. The c...
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