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

11100+ Sad Short Stories to read

Submitted by writers on Reedsy Prompts to our weekly writing contest. Do you ever need to break your own heart? We see you. Grab a tub of ice cream or a box of tissues and settle down with some of the best, really sad short stories to make you cry.

Sad Short Stories – Page 557 of 740

Our Red Roses

Submitted to Contest #86

Do you remember the day of your first deployment?  I clung to you, unwilling to let you go. All I could think about was what if you didn’t make it back, what if this was the last time I saw you, what if this was the last day that we were us and after that, it was just me. I told you through tears and sniffles what I was thinking about. You held me tighter and I wanted to stay like that forever, in your arms, the safest place in the world. You placed me down on the couch and walked over to the kitchen. I could hear you moving things aro...

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The Predicament

Submitted to Contest #86

I am bones sewn together by a sheet of pale chiffon, buried under six feet of quilted ennui. I am surrounded by cups left half-empty and unopened mail. Piles of unwashed clothes intermingle with take-out bags and bobby pins. In this little winter wasteland, there is only one footpath through all of the disarray, and it doesn’t even lead to the egress. There is no sound but the dripping of melted snow on peeling window panes. There is no smell or taste in the air. There isn’t even a purpose to breathe. There is nothing left of me. This is hib...

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My Ash...

Submitted to Contest #86

Ash... Yeah, Ash. That was all there was to it, Ash. Elie's mind raced, she had to do something to solve this predicament, and fast. Ash was her problem, so Ash was also the solution.  Ash, who had always rolled in the grass, tumbling down hills and scraping knees. Ash who always told Elie that secrets were meant to be shared with the ones closest to us. Ash who had sang such a song that Elie might have just given in right then and there. Ash, who always smiled even when pain crept through. Ash, who had been broken so many times that s...

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blooms of innocence

Submitted to Contest #86

warnings: drug abusethis is one of my first stories and so I'm experimenting (and being honest, I don't even think I've understood the prompt properly hehe)----------------------------------------------------------------Birdie smelt of pomegranates. April always knew when her best friend entered the room because the sweet aroma would gently glide in and mix softly with the air just before she made herself visible. It was rather odd, considering that Birdie always stated that she never, ever used any products which had that specific scen...

11 likes 4 comments 4
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Ida's Flower Shop

Submitted to Contest #86

Ida’s flower shop was at the corner of the street, between the second hand bookstore and local bakery. The flower shop was small, and cluttered, and Ida ran the place completely on her own. The townspeople gossiped about how the young woman was a little strange at times. Sometimes she was seen whispering to her flowers, cupping the buds in her hands and leaning in close as if speaking to a lover. Other times she would walk into town with dying flowers placed delicately between her coarse curls. “It’s so they’re not alone, when they’re s...

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The Woodland Communicators : Dicaleon Dynasty

Submitted to Contest #86

Many centuries ago, there was a realm called Nemia. It had many kingdoms, one of which stood out from the rest. It was the Nuimerean Kingdom. This kingdom flourished with mystical woodland creatures. It had a dragon that lived in the clouds and occasionally flew down for ceremonies and rituals. Mermaids lived by the enchanted rivers and swam all day long. It also had werewolves that hunted for food from the other kingdoms. All these creatures lived in the forest above the surface. Below the surface, was the Centaurs reigning as kings an...

9 likes 2 comments 2
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Another spring will come

Submitted to Contest #86

“We should’ve dressed more lightly,” suggested Timothy, a young boy with sparking eyes, “look, father, it’s so warm, it’s spring now! Look at the blossoming field flowers, isn’t this sight a treasure?”    A huge man and his son were strolling on a grassy field, on rather hot and humid day, which, by the way, was a rare occasion in this little village. “Tim, the nature doesn’t forgive naive people”, answered the man with content look on his face. His eyes always gave an impression that he was tired all the time, but it was easy...

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Wicked Girl.

Submitted to Contest #87

There was once a merchant who set out with his wife on a pilgrimage to Mecca. Their daughter, though, they left at home, with an Arab slave girl to keep her company. One evening quite late, the merchant’s daughter and the Arab girl were singing and laughing and dancing about in the upstairs apartment. By accident, the Arab girl knocked over the oil lamp, leaving the young ladies in darkness. “What should we do?” said the merchant’s daughter. “It’s too late to rouse the servants.” “I’ll go out and find a light,” said the Arab girl. “But w...

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Poppy Meadow

Submitted to Contest #86

Ron poured himself a whiskey and lemon. He only ever added the lemon part when he was just with himself, or occasionally, in the company of his late wife, who, to his internal sadness, he had outlived by a number of years. Lemon wasn't something real men added to their drinks. At least in proper company.He laid back on the lounger his kids had convinced (with lots of poking, persuasion and outright bullying) him to buy and Ron could not help but wonder why he had resisted the chair for such a long time. Was it the idea that it did his standi...

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Crocuses

Submitted to Contest #86

“Look, Ma. The crocuses are back.” I waited a moment for her to respond. “Aren’t they beautiful?” A beat. “They’re your favorite, right?” “What?” She pulled out of her reverie, “Yes.” “I forgot why you and grandma liked them so much. Can you tell me again? I want to tell Claire later.” I stopped her wheelchair in front of a cluster of crocuses so we could consider them. Their purple-veined bells had just pushed through the woodchips, presenting their golden stamen from between their curled petals. She stared at them for a moment. “They...

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The Perfect Flower

Submitted to Contest #86

“Mommy, oook”Her perfectly shaped lips formed an O as she drew out the word. She bounded forward, racing toward her new discovery. A flower. There, in the middle of the sidewalk, as a beacon of the undeniable season that lies ahead. I remembered our spring days last year, soaking up the sunlight like a sponge after enduring the never-ending winter.Sara bent down low to observe the treasure; her bottom almost touching the ground. Her plump little finger stroked the pale orange petals, the color of sun just peeking over the horizon, caref...

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The Dying Flower

Submitted to Contest #86

My mother never spoke to me anymore unless she was telling me how I was a mistake and when she did, I could smell the rancid scent of strong whiskey on her breath and choked on the stench of rotten flowers radiating from the excess of expired perfume. Her blue eyes, now cloudy from years of cigarette smoke and never seeing the light of the sun, would stare at me, full of resentment and loathing. She always told me that if it weren’t for me, she would have been the most famous artist, a painter of unimaginab...

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Flowering Walrus

Winner of Contest #86 🏆

My wife chopped off the stems of these innocent white roses about two weeks ago. She put the dozen of them in her favorite glass vase and filled it up. She hasn’t changed the water once, and now it’s murky and growing algae. It looks like the Heather Farm pond that turned green that one year, except it’s not green. It’s just super dirty looking. She thinks flowers are pretty. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if they’re dead or alive; she just has to have them in the house.She made me go to the store and buy baby’s breath the other day. Helluva ...

346 likes 184 comments 184
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Yellow Alyssum

Submitted to Contest #86

“Are you not tired of being alone?” He asks.   She falls silent, her arms growing weak under his grip. The question swims dangerously in her head. It’s like he threw a pebble in a still pond, causing ripples to go deep, disturbing the motionless stream of thoughts that is— or was— her mind.   Her eyes travel from his eyes to the ground, noticing the yellow alyssum budding along the cracks on this chunk of fairly huge rock.   Is she really tired of being alone?   The truth is that she has never questioned that choice. It w...

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Damon’s Aestivation

Submitted to Contest #86

Damon’s last venture into the house was six weeks before when late one evening he had discovered that not only had the batteries in his torch died but that there was no oil left for his old lamp either. Thereon he’d stocked anything he might need in the shed, gratified that he had successfully forged a resemblance of the surf-bum existence that he had had back in his early twenties. This was his sole, short-lived, glimmer of satisfaction, however. Back then, it had been fun and exciting. This was all about coping. In those halcyon days, he...

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RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

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