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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of people of color 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!
By the time I stepped outside Starbucks to try their pumpkin spice latte, the leaves were on fire. The leaves of the trees had turned to red and gold. The beauty and splendour before me was something I have seen only in postcards and brochures. My heart fluttered as I began clicking away, completely immersed in what I was doing when,,,oops! My step faltered. I had stumbled on a piece of rock."Aray!" I cried aloud, hoping nobody had heard or seen what happened or I would have been embarassed. But I was wrong. Somebody did see me.
“So what are we doing today?” I asked Eugenie.
“Apple picking,” she replied. She said it like it was obvious, like we had spoken about a thousand times before. In fact, this was our first interaction on the subject.
“What is that?”
She gave me a wry look. “Exactly what it sounds like.”
“Literally picking apples? That’s a thing you do?”
It was the beginning of October, the weather was getting colder and the nature was colorful. I loved autumn, it brought me some coziness. It was not like summer, constantly hot, nor like spring - frequent rains. It was beautiful because of the variety of colors describing an amazing natural picture.
My parents and I went to visit my grandfather in the village. Every year at this time we would gather to pick apples...
Biggie Biggie saw the movie Notorious and like himself, liked his nickname— American rapper, no school but more money than Teacher. Mixing cement and carrying gravel for concrete casting made Biggie money. He liked work, people liked him. He worked and was very happy. His head pan load made others looked bad, Biggie wouldn’t stop working. He loved to do it but seeing the girls a...
Her feet are feeling the wet and warm tar of the street. “Am I getting an infection?” She wonders. She has always been paranoid about catching something. She has always believed to stay far above the ground wearing well protected shoes. “Boots are the best”, she always thought. She made sure her two sons always wore boots. But then how did she get here? She is wearing her summer slippers, walking...
Charis leaned over Cleopatra to grab her cup. “So, are you worried about going home?”
Cleopatra sipped her wine, and grimaced. The farther they got from Italy, the more bitter and watered down the wine became. “Worried?”
“Anxious. You haven’t been home since your dad got exiled. Are you worried that things have changed?”
“Of course they’ve changed. I wouldn’t be going home if they hadn’t.”
JOELYS TRUJILLO FONTANEZ
The fist struck my face. Again and again. As he did until there was nothing but blood clouding my vision, bruises dancing across my pale skin. Until I was nothing but a ragdoll.
This isn’t abuse.
Kai’s a difficult trainer after all. For two years, I begged him to teach me how to fight like he does. He only agreed this year....
Another day passed mopping floors at ‘the plaza’, God! I hate summer here , first of all summer in Chicago is not actually summer , it’s still cold. I don’t drink, even though I am 32 and I live alone , I mean there is literally no one to tell me I cant , I am grown man but every time this thought comes to my mind of drinking I just remember my mother back in Pakistan and the promise I made to her , “you are going just t...
It’s funny how people hold on to things. Somehow a frayed notebook carries memories of carefree days past, while a piece of glass reflects a shattered home. A dusty scarf smells like your favorite roast dinners, while a rusted gold ring reminds you of a cheap love. I guess it’s quite simple, really. Objects that others dismiss mean the world to you; they hold the sentimental values of your whole universe. Sometimes I look at the locket, turn it around until it starts to look like another scar on the palm of my hand....
It was my favourite time of the year, everyone's favourite time of the year if we are being honest, Christmas and I was packing my clothes and shoes from school for the long anticipated holiday. I hummed in unison with the old Christmas track album our hostel matron played. It was distant but yet gloriously divine. We had something similar at our family house and we would play all the tracks on repeat for the whole night...
I tap my foot awkwardly, shifting my eyes around the dimly lit elevator, and try to ignore the painful silence that lingers between me and the other passenger. Just two more floors til floor five. She’s getting off there too, but most likely heading in a different direction. Just a few more seconds to go, and then this cringeworthy silence will end, and you can get in your car and leave the parking garage and go home.
Cleopatra tapped her earpiece awkwardly and fidgeted with the microphone in her collar. “And you’re sure that this will translate the… English, you said?” She looked at the markings in the pod nervously. None of the six languages she spoke came in handy here.Maline looked down at her tablet. “It should. English is a bit… strange, so I can’t be quite sure, but you’re understanding me just fine with your translator on and I’m speaking modern Greek now, so it should work for English. I wish I had more time to test it out, but I was ju...
It was July 31, my birthday. I reached into the cooler, grabbed another popsicle wrapped in white plastic and handed it to the last person in line. The boy grinned, “Thank you!” Air whistled through the numerous gaps in his teeth. I smiled and reached for the last cherry popsicle, the one I had been saving for myself. When I looked up, I had expected the boy to be gone, but there he was staring right at me.
“Do you want to come with me?”
I look from Anna’s brown eyes downward to her fingers that grasped tightly onto the hands of her two boys on either side of her. Their brown eyes were curious; awaiting an answer just like their mom was. I told Anna I wanted more time to think, and if I could get back to her. Anna gave me a half smile and a small nod. She told me to take whatever time I needed and that there...
“Excuse me? Young man?”
Kiyoshi looked behind him, raising his mask back over his mouth and nose. Standing there was an older man, possibly around his late fifties, with dripping wet hair and slightly bloated skin. He was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, though he didn’t seem at all bothered by that.
“This is where you line up to be judged, yeah?”
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