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A weekly short story contest
Looking for a steady supply of romance 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!
“Order up!” Ron yelled. Trisha was so tired that she could not see straight, but she made it to the counter to get her customer’s order. She had worked a double today at the diner because Brenda, the other server, called in, yet again. Plus, she could use the extra money. The books for this semester’s classes were crazy expensive. Trisha, or Trish as everyone called her, was in her last year of school to complete her bachelor’s degree. She wasn’t your traditional college student, at the age of 26, but ...
Skype/FaceTime was a Godsend. Saying a long-distant relationship is challenging is like saying to a NASA engineer the sun is hot. It’s obvious. We have to trust each other to obey the Seventh Commandment (even though we’re not married, we still consider cheating adultery). But today is the day we each start driving toward each other. See, my name is George, and the way I see it, phone sex is the next best thing to sex, but it still isn’t sex. Now, as any good man can tell you a relationship is more than sex,...
by Mike VokosLeonard looked at the ship arriving at their port and felt sad.He walked over to the window and considered their frozen surroundings. He always loved cold Arctic Zone with its icy, snow-dancing storms. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel creative. ‘Oceans SOS’ a non-governmental org, confided him in the last 16 months to research and report about carbon dioxide (CO2) ramifications on the increasing aggressiveness and death mortality of polar bears on the Arctic Zone. His fi...
The orange light of the sunset seems to soften as it washes over the neighborhood, rows after rows of the same suburban houses. For a moment they look like perfectly squared, immaculate cubes of bright whites and pinks, then Harper blinks and every detail that makes a house comes into focus: terracotta roof tiles, the texture of the plaster, an array of aligned windows. Right as they think there should be flowers poking from behind the glass they spot some from the corner o...
We always meet at night, our voices hushed and footsteps soft against the sand. The waves crash and shush us, as if I need a reminder this time. It's not like I'm actually saying anything— we're sitting on the beach with the moon casting a gentle light on our bare feet. He's got a glass of wine in his hands and our legs are so close, they're nearly intertwined. He's watching the water and I'm trying not to watch him. A wedding reception buzzes above us in the restaurant on the side of the mountain. Traditional Greek music is muted but sti...
My name is Parker June, a normal teenage High school kid. You see I play football, I’m the quarterback of the team, the handsome devil every girl wants. I make good grades & kick ass at football! I got detention last week for picking a fight with one of the school weirdos since he felt the need to verbally harass me, god I hate that people treat me less human because I play sports. That’s beside the point though. Saturday morning came and I sat in the back so no one would bother me, the desk I sat at had these weird starts and foreign...
Putting her hands in her skirt pockets, Katie Zima walked quietly for a while. I don’t have duty tomorrow.. Maybe I can go back to the Rowdy Raven for a few more drinks. She looked up when she heard ravens cawing at each other. Smiling softly, she made her way to the bar again, taking much less time than it took to get her friend out...
Despondent, depressed, discouraged: Harold felt all those "D" words since his wife passed away. The art gallery disliked showing old paintings but his heart wasn't open to creating new ones. The gallery owner called again last week, "Harold, when can we expect a piece from you?" "Don't start with me Lou." Harold's voice monotone through the cell phone. He couldn't muster enough energy to modulate it. &...
Everything about her reminded me of him. Her eyes would go wider at the mention of heavy creamed coffee, and the way she smiles at Monet’s Water Lilies. The hair she tucked at the back of her ear, her striking jawline, it was like meeting him. She wiped her fingers at the edge of her sleeve and smiled at me, a warm, tender smile.‘Funny running into you’ I said unsure of what to speak....
DAWN AND DUSKThey were called Dawn and Des, but there was a certain inevitability about them being nicknamed (affectionately, of course, their friends hastened to reassure themselves) Dawn and Dusk. At one point it had been considered very original and witty. They knew about it, of course, and didn’t seem to mind, though most people went through the motions of not saying “Dusk” to their faces. The nickname had turned into a constant, but that did not mean there were ...
"Choo, choo", the long awaited spry blue diesel train brushed menacingly against the weeping tracks as it came to a halt. Tightly clutched to the blood inked Chanel 2.55 garnet bag anchored on the crook of her arm, Sloan hurried through the aghast horde of people, as she headed towards the faint hued entryway. Disquieted, she gazed through the square casement with her quivering fingers partly shielding her panicked look, watching as the ticketers placed side by side on the cemented floors the fatally scarred bodies of two middle aged men ...
The old man was going to sea. This fact would be revealed to him in twelve minutes time. Presently, he was battling the stubborn lid of the marmalade jar. Click. Finally. Ahhhhhh! That smell! A clandestine night-time plucking of oranges on a Spanish street had gone into making that sweet preserve. Victory achieved, Jack sent his knife into the very corners of the jar. He scraped the amber jelly onto his single slice of wholemeal toast. That was the last of it now. Oh...
There he is, that guy. He comes here every week trying to ‘take-off’ in his comedy career. I mean, some of his stuff is…half-decent at best, but otherwise, he’s just making a fool of himself. Some people think it’s hilarious but I don’t get it. Most of its anecdotal humor with some awkward puns thrown in here and there. Being honest, I don’t have anything against him, and I think they’d be good stories to tell to a group of friends at a house party. He clearly can keep people interested, but I just can’t focus when he's on stage. Th...
An epiphany: The awakening of ones senses; a brilliant light, a realization of enormous proportions. I can say I experienced such an epiphany when I was at work in the United States about a year ago. It was awe-inspiring and moved me to the core. There I was sitting at my desk on a particularly uneventful day, my phone silent, and just a few voices buzzing like flies around the perimeter of my ears. I had spent a quiet morning surfing the internet for flights to India. And yes, I just did say India. I knew ...
He didn’t know why he kept looking up there. No matter how many times he checked, the time on the clock didn’t change. 6 o’clock. It always said 6 o’clock. It was a lie of course. One of many that was in place to herd the “undesirables” more easily towards the completion of the “Final Solution.” He had known about the Final Solution almost half his life. Since starting out in the Hitler Youth at the age of ten they had drilled i...
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