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Discover weekly, the best short stories

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

460+ People of color Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. The world is colorful and diverse, and so your reading list should be. Discover a multitude of experiences and perspectives with this collection of short stories written about and by people of color.

People of color Short Stories – Page 2 of 31

Samuel's Bas-uy

Submitted to Contest #288

The unusually hot summer day hadn’t stopped the Vincenzos from their special Sunday treat. Pork.No wonder Samuel’s smile was as wide as the mountain ranges behind him, wearing a pair of sparkling eyes full of delight. He worked hard to finally get a kilo of pork, which he knew would make his dear wife and four lovely girls happy. They’d been waiting a month for him to save enough money to get some because pork was a luxury in this part of the barangay. Like having a good beef steak in a five-star fine-dining restaurant. Inaccessible. You mig...

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Three Teas

Submitted to Contest #287

I was embarrassed by the silence.  It was so quiet in this tearoom, sipping and blowing the hot water in my cup sounded thunderous.  “Don’t worry about it,” assured Pam, my friend of 20-plus years. “Nobody cares.”   I giggled, mildly distressed.   We’d been to this place before, an unassuming low-slung brick building on the corner of a slow industrial street. About a year ago. We were searching for a place to host a middle-aged women’s group, hoping to be a source of refuge, some solitude and simultaneously, some communit...

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Jungle Magic

Submitted to Contest #287

“So, brother Ricky, how long have you been in the healing ministry?” Pastor Jeffery, still dressed in his impeccably clean, white church clothes, squinted in the low light as he peered intently over his cup of chai, chewing slowly on a far too large mouthful of chapati. We were sitting in his hut at the edge of the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest in Southwest Uganda. His wife, Rose, had served the bread fresh off the griddle and the tea from a very well-used thermos. It was an easy answer for me; I looked at my watch and replied, “Well, pastor Je...

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A Cup Without Tea

Submitted to Contest #287

She was late coming home one October night. Fireworks from outside rattled the teacups on the shelf. The sound of fingertips tapped the glass windows. Was she home? The tapping dissolved into a heavy rain coaxing the windowpanes. I sat in the kitchen waiting. Then finally, she came home. The rain made her porcelain-colored skin glow. She wasn’t alone; a man trailed behind her. They were drenched from head to toe. Their laughter filled the air. He appeared exotic, clad in a long sequined shirt and sandals. “Is this usually how Diwali ends? Ru...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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Hope's Prison

Submitted to Contest #286

Catherine met Uche in Bern, Switzerland, in 1996. It was a cold night when they first crossed paths. She had just arrived in a foreign place, surrounded by foreign people, speaking a foreign language. Meeting Uche, someone from her home country, felt like offering water to someone stranded in a scorching desert. She fell in love almost immediately, captivated by his charm and the promises he made—promises that would later turn out to be hollow.Blinded by love and manipulation, Catherine believed Uche was her safe haven in this unfamiliar lan...

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A Writer's Ghost

R J

Submitted to Contest #285

“I remember when I used to wake up in the morning and you used to be there. Not the sun, not the light, you. And for a moment I would think–” She grunts, frustration so evidently written on her face that her shoulders contort. Shake. My eyes shoot open, her sudden spike in anger giving me life. What in God's name– Another irritated scream scratches through my daze and realization dawns on me. I sigh. I’m still in the same place I was yesterday. Still with the same girl, who I’m sure, is a fraction insane. And I’m stuck with her. I’m sitting ...

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Mixtapes, Mistakes, and Memories

Submitted to Contest #285

Teresa If you had told me in my teens that twenty-six years into my marriage, quiet mornings and predictable evenings would be my life—and that choosing a new brand of toothpaste would be our biggest adventure—I’d laughed and punched you in the face.  “Tere?” Eduardo called out and entered the kitchen. At fifty-one, Eduardo still charmed everyone he met. The strands of gray mixed with his black hair suited him perfectly. He worked as a bank supervisor, but he could easily pass as a model with his fit physique. It showed in the confident...

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A Light in the Cold

Shortlisted for Contest #284 ⭐️

A Light in the Cold A drop of tea leaped over the thin wall of the china cup and onto her walnut coffee table as she knelt to sit on her couch. “Crap,” she uttered softly. She placed the teacup securely on her mandala coaster and walked back to her kitchen to grab a paper towel, shaking her right hand to relieve the heat it had absorbed. As she returned to the cup of homemade masala chai, notes of cardamom and ginger entered her nostrils. She picked the teacup up gently, turned it around so the Rumi quote embossed on the rim was visible, and...

31 likes 9 comments 9
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Hawaii's First Christmas

Submitted to Contest #283

Hawaii’s First Christmas: A Short StoryBy Joy Ogawa Christmas Eve 1858, the influential widow, Mary Dominis, opened her Honolulu mansion to lucky local children, child princesses, and Santa Claus for the island’s first modern holiday celebration. A large Christmas tree with European ornaments, presents, lit candles, carols, a grand luau of Hawaiian delicacies, and treats common in Europe were highlights of the party.  Imagine horse-drawn carriages pulling up to a Grecian style mansion with garlands of sparkle and firs lining the ...

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A Christmas Carol Miscast

Submitted to Contest #282

Content warning: Themes or references to discrimination and race.“I’m sorry for how . . .” she started to say before realizing the meeting was over. Shana was standing with her arms open and a smile on her face.It took Andrea an unreasonable amount of time during the meeting to figure out who Shana Jackson was. How could she be so dense? She had met Shana just over a month ago. Seattle is not so big that you may only meet somebody like Shana once in your life, especially when you are both involved in community theatre.Andrea had been a Seatt...

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The Day they Grew Cold

Submitted to Contest #281

An old man trudged up the hill, his grandson beside him, their breaths visible in the cold. The boy reached up, his small hands brushing the folds of the old man’s keffiyeh, its warmth a stark contrast to the chill around them.The man paused, his finger trembling as he pointed to a house perched on the hill, its walls scarred and silent, its windows hollowed by years of abandonment. “That was ours,” he said, his voice a low tremor that carried the weight of generations.The boy tilted his head, his eyes wide with curiosity. “What happened?” h...

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Sub/Urban Bebop

Submitted to Contest #280

       “And our next guest is one I’m sure you’ve all heard of, though if anyone hasn’t heard of him, come talk to me after the show so you can give me the address of the rock you’ve been living under!”            “You said it Jim!”            “Thanks for the input random audience member! But without further ado, let’s welcome the New York Times Best-selling author for the past f...

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Soulsaving virginity

Submitted to Contest #276

As if the night had come too early, the spring darkness of Kyiv was heavy and damp. Wet from the constant rain, the streets were still deserted, but alive with the downpours, the wind that yawned on our skin, and the wet shoes that vibrated on the sidewalk.He was tall and walked beside me. It was our first date. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as if he had a habit of defending himself. The black, wet coat seemed too wide. His curly brown curls clung to his caramel skull, and the rain dripped from his hair in almost a trickle. He had the...

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Thank you Henry!

Submitted to Contest #276

Any other night, Dad was at the table waiting for us, his four sons, when Mom called us in for supper. Tonight, Dad was on the phone so as we walked into the kitchen, Mom did that “shhh” thing with her finger in front of her lips. We quickly quieted down and found our seats at the table. We could hear Dad talk, but he wasn’t saying much, “Ok, sure, I understand. Ok, I’ll let them know. Ok, thanks.” He untangled the stretchy phone cord and hung the handset back in its cradle on the wall. He quickly settled i...

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Bekhor, the first Son

Submitted to Contest #275

Bruriah ran along the empty streets as she heard singing coming from most of the houses. She had fallen asleep behind a stack of hay because she was tired from all the work she had been forced to do for her Egyptian mistress. So, she thought to hide away for a while, but then she fell asleep until sunset. The night was falling fast, the last feeble rays of the sun dipping into the vast Nile River. Bruriah made her way through the simple Israeli housing structures when she saw a doorpost stained with blood.She remembered how the Medianite for...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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